You With the Sad Eyes
by ZZ9PluralZAlpha
Summary: AU, Faberry. Rachel Berry is not a diva. She barely even exists. So when a newly mature Quinn Fabray takes note of her, how will the story progress? Rated M because I have no idea where this story will take me.
1. Chapter 1

**AN**

**So, a new story, in a fandom I've become very fond of recently. Don't know what the update schedule will be, where this story's going or whether I'll even finish it. I do hope you like it, though.**

**Also, if anyone's interested in beta reading this, feel free to message me.**

**Tom**

Chapter One: The One in the Spotlight

She sold herself short at the audition.

Of course, she had had to. Nothing to draw attention to herself, nothing to jeopardise her fragile status quo. She was taking enough of a risk just trying out for the show choir. And so, she sang Memory. It was a very calculated choice: so far from original it was almost a cliché, and really needing someone distinctly older to pull it off properly. Then she asked for it in a low key for her, meaning her high notes was much less impressive. And so Will Schuester watched her, and saw and heard nothing remarkable, and she got into Glee Club with no difficulties.

She didn't really connect with the others. Of course, there were only five of them to start with. Tina, Mercedes, Kurt and Artie were all great fun, and were friendly in a generic kind of way. And that was fine. More would have been nice, but… that would be when things get difficult. It was better this way.

And so, Rachel Berry found something, almost like happiness, standing behind the others and swaying in the background.

Things progressed quickly after that. Finn Hudson joined the team, initially blackmailed by Mr. Schue, then because he found he liked it, and found a place for himself in the spotlight. He was soon followed by the unholy trinity, Brittany Pierce, Santana Lopez and Quinn Fabray. They claimed to be joining because they wanted to be involved; in fact, Quinn was keeping an eye on Finn, her boyfriend. And finally, when Mr. Schue did a recruitment drive in the football team, Mike Chang, Matt and even Noah Puckerman joined as well… though probably Puck was just trying to get closer to Quinn. Will couldn't afford to be picky about his club members' motives for joining: he was just glad they were there. With twelve members, the choir could compete.

The year passed with more drama than anyone could really cope with. The club went through many trials and tribulations, mostly at the hands of Sue Sylvester, although the appearance of local rivals Vocal Adrenaline's Jesse St. James, and his attempted seduction of Santana to sabotage the McKinley school's chances was nothing to do with her. And throughout the year, the members of the club grew closer, either as friends or as more, though few romantic relationships lasted. Mercedes, Santana and Kurt squabbled over solo parts, and Mr. Schue went through his own hell with his wife pretty much going crazy, but the end result was that they all grew closer all the time… except Rachel, who would get a friendly pat on the back occasionally, but was, unknown to the rest of the club, the recipient of the most slushy facials. She became very good at bringing cheap, disposable clothes to school… often multiple changes.

It came out pretty soon that Quinn was pregnant, but it was quite some time later that anyone found out that Puck, not Finn was the father. That revelation caused Finn to break up with Quinn and leave the club for a while, arriving back just in time to save the day at the regional competition. Mercedes sang brilliantly, all of them did, but it wasn't enough to win the competition, and more drama piled on top when Quinn went into labour. She had a beautiful baby girl, who she named Beth, with Puck's help, before giving her up for adoption to a family from another state. And so the year ended, with the glee club a little battered from their defeat, but full of hope for the future.

It had been a weird summer for Quinn Fabray. Actually, it had been a weird year. Weird, bad, and most definitely sad. Thrown out by her father when he found out she was pregnant, she was then also thrown out by Finn when he found out how she had lied to him, and while both Puck and Mercedes had offered to take her in, she had resisted, living out of her car in the school parking lot for a little while, before regionals and her mom showing up to invite her back home. And now here she was, home… but with her father gone, booted by her mother for having an affair; her mother gone, working as a legal clerk of all things for most of the hours of the day; her friends weirdly silent, although with how she had pushed them away towards the end of the year, maybe not that surprising; worst of all, her baby gone, gone to a good mother in Shelby Corcoran, perhaps, but gone from her life.

She had been left with a lot of time, on her own, and what she mostly did was think. She thought about what made her happy, and what made her sad. She thought about what she had done, and about why she had done it. She thought about her family, her friends, her boyfriends, her past and her future. And little by little, she learned to discover who Quinn Fabray was.

Quinn Fabray was, until recently, a girl produced by everything apart from herself. She joined the Cheerios, even became captain, because that was what her parents, and especially her father, wanted. She realised, though, that she didn't really enjoy cheering. She got the same buzz performing in glee, and most of the pleasure she felt was through the approval of those around her. Without that, she was able to think more about what she wanted. She was a good Christian girl, and the captain of the celibacy club, and even dating the quarterback, because those were what her parents wanted of her.

She thought about what actually gave her pleasure: achieving highly at school was a big one, and it almost surprised her, but that had always been icing on the cake before. Her dad had been happy that she was popular and powerful, and presented the right image. Intelligence was great, but hardly a necessity to him. She enjoyed writing, a lot, and spent some time that summer doing just that, writing short stories and beginnings to novels she'd never finished, quite a few poems, but eventually she found a real niche with writing songs. She loved music, she would hardly have been a cheerleader and a glee club member if that wasn't true, and she enjoyed fitting words to music, and vice versa, to express what she was feeling better. Still, exploring her feelings this way inevitably led her back to her mistakes.

She had had sex precisely once, drunk on wine coolers and with her boyfriend's best friend. She spent a lot of time working out why she had done this, since unbeknownst to any, she really hadn't been that drunk. Maybe drunk enough to have sex, but not with Puck, who at the time was a notorious man-whore. So, why? And the answer she eventually built to was that she was trying to work out what all the fuss was about. Not even so much with sex, just with… boys. Men. What was the point? Oh they could be good guys, she only had to look around glee to see a room full of those, and they could be sweet and funny and charming… she just couldn't figure out why anyone would want to spend all their time with one. Girls were much nicer.

She had stopped dead at that point, literally. She had been walking around Lima aimlessly one day, and the thought had made her stop in her tracks. Then she had very slowly made her way to Lima Bean, thankfully just a couple of blocks away, and sat with a succession of coffees, and tried to face the thought head on.

'_Girls were much nicer.'_

Well, it was hardly to be contested. Sure, girls could be bitchy, and in some cases mean (her own, she sorrowfully acknowledged), but mostly they were nicer. They were so much more in tune with their emotions, and so much more able to express them. They were rarely loud or violent or smelled bad, the way boys often were, and tended to be funnier and smarter, just generally better people to be around.

Okay, so far no problem. Just the conclusions of a girl who hasn't met the right boy yet. Seems reasonable. She sighed, ordered another coffee, and confronted the thought she had been avoiding for the past couple of hours.

Girls looked nicer. They did. Girls had soft skin that they worked to maintain, and lovely hair that they could do many things with. Boys were so… functional. Their bodies seemed really simply designed: the hair was designed so it didn't need attention, the skin ignored and largely covered with hair that was really unpleasant, and they were so… basic.

Girls… girls were more aesthetic. Girls could be any shape or size and still appear beautiful. The way they curved, the way they moved, all were designed to attract attention. Quinn had always understood cheerleading, she realised, because she appreciated the spectacle. It had never occurred to her that maybe the other cheerleaders didn't.

Finally Quinn went back home, with a new truth about herself revealed, and forever unable to be hidden again. She was gay. She knew it, bone deep inside her. It was the reason that she had had sex with Puck that night: it was her opportunity to prove to herself that boys were good, to be with, but it had proved no such thing. And it was all because she just was not attracted to men… and she was attracted to women. It was sobering, and battled with so much inside her, but it was undeniable.

At home she went to her mother, who, when she was around, had been great since Quinn returned home from the hospital. She sat down with Judy Fabray and told her everything that she had been thinking about, everything that she had discovered, praying all the time that her mother wouldn't react badly to it. She explained until her voice was raw with the telling, and then fell silent, her eyes fixed on her hands in her lap, waiting for her mother to reply.

Judy Fabray was a quiet woman, and many people over the years had mistaken that for weakness, while it was nothing of the sort. She was deeply religious, although she was more willing than many to listen to what other people said. Once she had thrown Russell out after his affair, she had re-examined herself, and her beliefs. It occurred to her now that she was very glad to have done so, since it let her be prepared to talk to her daughter now: her daughter, who looked so young and defenceless, and had been through so much recently. She waited a few seconds, and then began to talk.

"Quinn, first of all, I love you. You're my daughter and I love you, everything about you, even if I don't understand you sometimes. Please don't think that I won't any more because of what you've told me, or that I'm going to try to change you. Love doesn't work that way." She stood, and sat next to Quinn on the sofa, pulling her into an embrace before continuing.

"Now, you're gay. I might have tried to warn you about phases and growing up and confusion, but I won't bother. You've always been mature for your age, Quinnie, and with everything that's happened recently you've had to grow up a good deal. I can tell that you've thought hard about this, and really examined yourself closely. I might not altogether understand homosexuality, but I trust that your answer is the right one.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Quinn shook her head. She was sobbing gently into Judy's shoulder, but they were tears of relief from her mother's acceptance. "Or is there a girl you particularly like?" Again, Quinn shook her head. This was true. It wasn't that one particular girl had caught her attention, just that she had found this as a direction within herself.

"In one way, that's disappointing." Quinn looked up sharply at her mom, startled, and Judy smiled. "It's one thing to say you're gay, Quinn, and I do believe you, but I think it's going to be hard for me to really accept without some tangible proof."

Quinn sniggered through the tears that were slowing. "Would it help if I got some porn mags and hid them under my bed for you to find?"

Judy chuckled too. "I didn't realise that accepting your being a lesbian would also mean accepting I basically have a teenage son."

Quinn shook her head firmly, smiling. "I'm still a girl, mom, very much so. No porn, I promise."

"Oh good, I'm so relieved." Judy chuckled. "Of all the conversations I didn't think I'd be having with my daughter…"

They broke off for a while, thirsty and in need of a break from the emotions threatening to overwhelm them. Soon, though, they came back together.

"Mum, what about… church and stuff? Doesn't God hate gay people?"

Judy winced at the phrase, one learned by wrote from Russell, she didn't doubt. "Honey, I don't claim to know what God thinks about anything, and anyone who does is probably someone to avoid at all costs. There is one school of thought that says that homosexuality is against God's will. There is another that says that God is the God of love, and accepts it in all its forms."

"Well, what do you think, mom?"

"I think this." Judy sat up straight, and made sure she had Quinn's full attention. "First, I know that God doesn't hate. Not anyone, or anything. Not the devil himself. There is no human being who is beyond God's love; that I know to be absolutely true.

"I know that God does everything for a reason, and that must include making some people who are gay. I don't agree with the people who say that being gay is a choice people make, because no one would choose something like that if it led to them putting their own lives in danger, at least in some places. God is never cruel or heartless, so he doesn't afflict people with it at birth for no reason at all. Gay people are meant to be gay, this I'm sure of.

"Beyond that, honey, I'm not so sure, but I do tend to think that God gives us love and passion and attraction as a gift. This is where it gets a harder. With a person who is gay but has no partner, like you, it may become hard to see how this can be true, especially for old-fashioned people like me who were brought up to think a certain way. But, honey, I know gay couples. Quite a few, actually, and more than you'd think considering this town. And I see them living together, starting families, and I think, there is no way that this love is not from God. Many of them wouldn't appreciate me saying that, but I believe it's true anyway."

They were quiet for a while. "You really believe all that, mom?"

"Yes, I really do. And I believe that you, Quinn, are a wonderful girl, who had become so strong through what she's endured that she's able to question and understand who she is more than many full-grown adults I know. And I believe that one day you'll meet someone, someone who loves you and who you will love, unconditionally, and that you will be able to continue to live in faith despite what any number of bigoted idiots think.

"Now, what do you want for dinner?"

"Hey, everyone great to see you!" Mr. Schue strode into the room, as usual after everyone else had arrived, a big grin on his face. "I hope you had a really great summer, and I hope that now you're all really pumped for glee this year!"

The reaction of the club was a bit lacklustre, considering that despite their relative success last year the glee club was still the least popular group in the school, witnessed by Tina and Kurt being slushied already that morning. Mr. Schue noticed the response and turned the enthusiasm up a notch.

"Come on, guys, this year's going to be great. We have a year of experience now, we know what to expect and what problems might come up, and we're already so much better than we were when we started. Just to encourage you even more, though, I'm pleased to announce that this year, Finals will take place… in New York City."

"Oh my God," Kurt breathed, his eyes going unfocussed as he thought of it, and he wasn't the only one with something to say. Their was excited chatter in the choir room for a while, until Quinn stood up.

"Mr. Schue, can I say something? I'm sorry, it's not really on subject, but I need to talk to all of you."

Will looked a bit surprised, but had never turned down anyone's right to speak before, and wasn't going to start now. "Sure, Quinn, the floor's yours."

Quinn stepped to the front of the room, and looked at the people around her. She loved all of them, in her way: they had been like family last year, and she could trust them… all of them. She took a deep breath.

"I need to start by apologising to all of you. You were all really great to me last year, and I behaved like a bitch far too much of the time. I especially want to say sorry to Finn and Puck, for putting you both through so much grief. I really am going to try to be better now."

She stopped for a minute, wondering how to continue. The others were noticing her new look: she wore a pale yellow cardigan over a blouse and a long skirt, and her hair was pulled into a loose, low ponytail at the back of her neck. In some ways it was quite a childish look, but no one who knew her would ever make the mistake of calling Quinn Fabray childish. She cleared her throat.

"I also need to tell you all something, and I'm telling you because… you're my family, and you deserve to know these things about me. So I'm just going to say it. I'm gay. I really hope all of you can deal with that, but I'll understand if you can't."

There was silence for a while, but then Kurt got up, walked over and hugged her tightly. When he let go he was beaming at her. "Congratulations, Quinn. That was really brave. All things considered, I never really needed to come out officially, and I doubt if I did I could have done it half so well."

Quinn smiled, hugging the boy again, and they were soon joined by the others. Everyone gave her a hug, and last of all was Finn, who smiled down at her without a word, and held her tight for a moment before returning to his seat.

"Well, well done Quinn, and thank you for being so open with us. Do you want us to keep it to ourselves? I'm sure we can do that if that's what you want."

Quinn had gone back to her own seat, but shook her head. "No, I don't want you to lie. I'd rather you not advertise it everywhere, but don't deny it if someone asks. I'm kind of hoping the news will spread gradually, and then there won't be such a huge impact."

Mr. Schue nodded, then clapped his hands. "Okay! Lets get singing, huh guys?" With a round of whoops and cheers, they began to practice their new song: for a laugh, Mr Will had chosen 'Back to School Again' from Grease 2, and they had a lot of fun, but soon everyone could tell there was… something not quite right.

"Guys… you're all here, right?"

They all looked around, seeing everyone they expected to. Still, they got the point. The sound hadn't been right, there was something… someone missing. A head count put them at ten strong.

"Well, we know Matt transferred…" Mercedes mumbled, still obviously trying to think her way through.

"But that still leaves us one short." Will was appalled. Why did he not know this?

"Don't you have a whole list of us, Mr. Schue?" Artie was looking just as confused as anyone. Will shrugged.

"Not here. I kind of thought I didn't ne-"

"Where's Rachel?"

It was Quinn who asked, finally realising. The whole that was left unfilled was in the shape of a short, dark-haired girl she'd never really paid any attention to, and only knew the name of because of seeing the attendance list once.

"Who?" That was Santana, and for some reason the fact that the new head cheerleader didn't know who she was talking about and didn't have some kind of nickname for her, worried Mr. Schue all the more. It worried Quinn, too.

"You know, Slushy-face," Brittany reminded her, and Will frowned. He never liked hearing about that particular form of punishment.

"Why do you call her that, Brittany?"

The blonde shrugged. Because she really like getting slushies in her face."

Will took a deep breath, choosing to ignore that for now and focus on the problem. "Okay, so Rachel isn't here. Maybe she's sick. Was she in class today?"

There was a round of blank looks and non-committal noises. Will realised that Rachel might have been in class and no one would notice. How on earth had he allowed this to happen? He was one of the best teachers in this school, and his specialty was connecting with the kids. How could he have let one of his own, one of his glee kids, slip so far out of the net?

Quinn was thinking too, trying to picture the missing girl. If she worked hard she thought she could get an image of a short, brown-haired girl, but never a face. Whenever she tried, one of the other girls' faces intruded on the picture like one of those computer generated pictures, one person's head on another's body. The clothes were a constant, though: the girl wore jeans and jumpers all the time, not particularly nice ones, just plain, cheap ones. And they were often covered with slushy.

The lesson soon ended, and Quinn, still trying to complete her picture, made her way to the student office, and asked the lady there if she knew anything about one Rachel Berry. The lady, charmed by Quinn's polite question and concerned expression, handed over the top sheet of the girl's file. It didn't have any confidential information, like her personal record or her address or anything, but it did have a picture and a list of her classes. Quinn compared that to her own list, finding that they both had the same English lit class during second period the next day, as well as a few others in common. The picture, though, was small, black and white and grainy. All it really showed was dark hair hanging partially over a face she still couldn't make out. She sighed, handed the page back with a smile of thanks, and made her way home, wondering why this last member of the glee club was such an enigma.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Rachel got to school early the next day, before most people showed up at all. Even so, she moved through the halls in her own patented way: books clutched to her chest with both arms crossed in front of her, head bent forwards and hair completely obscuring her face, moving fast so that in total she presented the hardest possible target for slushies. Of course, the defensive posture had another purpose: it handily disguised the extra padding of the bandaging around her torso, under her sweatshirt, and even helped support that area, making breathing easier. She made it to the bathroom unmolested, slipped inside and then put her books out of the way before examining her face in the mirror.

Damn, that would be difficult to hide. The black eye was just that, black, and large with it. On top of that the bruise on her neck was a deep purple and noticeable despite her relatively high collar for such a warm day. She fumbled in her backpack for concealer, and swore under her breath. The little pot only just had enough in it. She'd need more soon and was low on funds. Oh well. She applied it carefully, as sparingly as it could, and was satisfied that her usual hair cover, plus the fact that people didn't look at her, would keep her from getting noticed. She picked up her books again, and made her way to home room.

She made it through the first two periods with no one the wiser, and without being attacked, but shortly after that her luck failed. Moving between Algebra and American History, on opposite sides of the school, she got cornered.

The aggressors that day were a group of cheerleaders, mostly sophomores who took Sue Sylvester's comments about glee club a little too much to heart, who were taking advantage of an easy target. The truth was, while glee club collectively was unpopular, most of the individual members were untouchables: football jocks, the head cheerleaders, one ex-cheerleader who was more frightening still, and a number of outcasts whose torment could be labelled a hate crime, and have serious repercussions. Truth to tell, the girls were really looking for Tina that day, as they figured she'd be easier to spot, but when Rachel practically walked into them, they weren't above using a target of opportunity.

There were ten of them, and most held a slushy. Rachel was backed into a wall, her books dropped some distance away to save them from the onslaught, her face already bowed before the expected deluge. It wasn't as if she'd never been the recipient of a multi-slushy before. Today, however, was something new. One of the cheerleaders had seen the synchronised swimming team and had a particularly vicious idea.

Rachel was surprised when the first slushy hit her, square in the face: only one? But too soon, she understood how it was going to go. After being hit by a slushy, there's a moment where the one hit will stand frozen, unable to do anything except open their mouth and try to gasp some air into their lungs. It's a natural reaction to the extreme cold. Rachel did just that… only to be hit by another slushy, and another. Eight in all. By the sixth she had dropped to her knees, unable to catch her breath, almost drowning in the cold, syrupy gunk.

It still wasn't over, though. As a final measure, two more cheerleaders (who hadn't had slushies) produced cans of soda, presumably shaken for a considerable time beforehand, and opened them at point blank range into Rachel's face. At this she did scream, just once. She didn't know how it was possible, but the carbonated drinks seemed to be reacting with the accumulated slushy, and the resulting mixture was almost caustic, feeling like it was burning into the skin of her face. She keeled over, lying on the floor and scrubbing at her face with freezing hands. The cheerleaders turned and left, laughing happily their high, angelic laughs… except for one particularly mean bitch, who gave Rachel a kick in the ribs once the others had gone, and then hurried to join them.

It was there that Quinn found her, having been looking all day: she had a free period and was wandering around in hopes of catching sight of the elusive club member. She rushed over in horror to where Rachel was struggling to stand, clutching at her torso and hyperventilating.

"Rachel? What the hell happened?"

Without waiting for a reply, Quinn ducked under her shoulder and helped to steady the shorter girl. She felt Rachel flinch away from the her touch, but persisted without comment, and soon was helping her into the nearest girls' restroom, snagging the dropped books from the floor as she did so.

Quinn hastened to fetch a large number of paper towels while Rachel scrubbed ineffectually at her face, still unable to breathe properly. Gently, Quinn mopped the horrible stuff away from the girl's face and hands, concern filling her about the sheer brutality of this attack, not to mention Rachel's gasping. Finally the dyed corn syrup was gone, at least from her skin, leaving her face red and scrubbed clean… and her bruises plainly visible. Rachel cursed when she saw herself in the mirror, and the horrified expression on Quinn's face.

"Rachel, what-"

"It's nothing," Rachel cut in, anxious to head off the blonde's queries, but grimacing at how week her voice sounded. "I got into a fight with someone, no big deal."

"Rachel, this is a big deal. That mark on your neck, it looks like a hand. Was someone trying to choke you?"

"Just… just leave it. Please, Quinn." Rachel blushed, although it was hard to notice with her face already red. This was the first time Quinn had ever spoken to her. She searched around for another topic, anything to get the conversation away from her problems. "Did I miss anything good at glee yesterday?"

Quinn recognised the change of subject for what it was, but recognised that Rachel had no reason to trust her, so let it slide for now. "Oh, not much. We sang a song from Greece 2, wondered where you were …"

"You did?"

Quinn almost felt her heart breaking at the tone of Rachel's voice. No one should be expressing that much emotion through two words, but Rachel managed it, and the mixture of pain and hope present were enough to leave Quinn as breathless as the other girl.

Quinn couldn't answer the question, instead busying herself with trying to get slushy off Rachel's clothes, and taking the opportunity to study her in detail. She was a small girl, and Quinn wasn't tall herself, but everything about her seemed focused on making her seem even smaller. Her face was guarded, pulled into a frown, and she wondered what it would look like when she smiled. She reminded Quinn forcefully of someone, though she couldn't for the life of her work out whom.

Eventually Quinn felt forced to say something. "Why do you have bandages wrapped round you?" At Rachel's sharp, worried glance she hurried to reassure her. "I've seen a few chest injuries from cheerleading accidents, had a few myself. I know what a bandaged torso looks like. But how-"

"I already said, I got in a fight," Rachel answered, a little too quickly. "Took myself to a free clinic I know to get bandaged. It'll be fine. Just wish that last bitch hadn't kicked me…"

"Someone kicked you? What, during the slushy?

Rachel's smile turned bitter. "Just after all her little cheer buddies left, one of them nailed me with her pretty white sneakers. Aren't cheerleaders just so cool?"

Quinn's face burned with associated shame. She herself had never thrown a slushy, but she knew it was happening, and happening while she was head cheerleader, which made it her responsibility. There was no excuse for that. She couldn't say this to Rachel, though, so refocused on more immediate problems.

"We should get you to the hospital, or at least the nurse. What if you've got a broken rib, or something?"

Rachel shot her a look, which seemed to be a mix of incredulity and shyness. The thought flashed through Quinn's mind that Rachel was absolutely adorable, her face so wonderfully expressive, but she chased those thoughts away as being unhelpful just now.

"Even if I do, it won't be the first, and probably not the last either. I can handle it, okay?" Seeing Quinn that concerned made Rachel feel terribly self-conscious, but there were other feelings too: wonder that the girl she'd idolised since Freshman year was talking to her, interacting with her, and embarrassment as well: a big, steamy pile of that. She needed to get out of this conversation now. "Look, Quinn, thanks for the help and everything but I've got to run. Can you give my apologies at glee? I can't really sing at the moment, not enough breath, but I'll be back soon." And with that she was gone, leaving Quinn staring at the spot she had just occupied, wondering what the hell to do now.

~GLEE~

At glee later Quinn sat staring into space, unable to concentrate on any of the conversations going on around her. She was too confused, and worried, about their absent team mate. She roused herself when Mr. Schue entered, his usual big cheesy grin on his face.

"Okay, guys," he began, clapping his hands and striding to the point in front of the desks. "We had a good welcome back session yesterday, and I'm glad you've not lost anything over the summer, but I never gave an assignment. Plus, we're down a member so we need to do some recruiting, and, of course, we need to start thinking about sectionals if we want to get to New York City!"

There were big cheers at this, though Quinn could only muster a very small smile. No one noticed, though.

"Right, now I was thinking earlier about how excited I am for this new year, I know we're going to go all the way guys. So, I wanted to know how you feel."

"Pumped!" Mercedes couldn't resist jumping in, which sparked off the rest.

"I guess whimsical," Kurt muttered. Artie came back with a "Psyched", Santana with "Angry, so what's new, bitches?", Brittany a quiet "Confused", Finn a "confident", and so on, until Will quieted them down.

"Well, all those are great, guys. You all have your own issues, your own experiences, but what I want is for you to express them in song for us. The assignment for this week is, "How do you feel?"

"Nice Start Trek reference, Mr. Schue," Artie chuckled, but no one heard him since at that moment Puck leapt to his feet and began a spirited, if not totally serious, rendition of 'Horny'. Eventually Mike Chang yanked him back into his seat amid much laughter.

"Thanks for that, Puck," Will noted, "but I was thinking more along these lines…" Brad began to play, and before Will sang a note they all recognised the old Pointer Sisters' classic.

'_Tonight's the night we're gonna make it happen,_

_Tonight we'll put all other things aside;_

_Get in this time and show me some affection,_

_We're goin' for those pleasures in the night!'_

It wasn't long before almost everyone was pumped and joining in; Mr. Schue just had that effect on them sometimes. When the chorus rolled around, Mercedes, Tina and Santana were singing their hearts out.

'_I'm so excited and I just can't hide it!_

_I'm about to lose control and I think I like it!_

_I'm so excited and I just can't hide it!_

_And I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I want you!'_

Quinn tried to get into it, she did, she started to sing along, get up and dance with the others, but every time she did she would get a flashback to that morning, to that small figure, drenched in red and blue muck and struggling to breathe, looking more alone than Quinn had ever witnessed someone looking before. And then she looked up at those around her, at the people who, when she was in trouble, had rallied round and supported her, who had stopped her from feeling alone, and the injustice of the moment choked her.

Eventually the song ended and everyone was laughing and cheering, but Will noticed Quinn's sombre expression. Of all his kids, he probably admired her the most, not just because of her talent, which was prodigious, but also because of her strength and perseverance over the last year, and because of the courage and maturity she had always shown. He always pictured Finn as the leader of the glee club, because he was so charismatic, some of the time, and more able than anyone else to motivate the rest, but Quinn had the emotional core of steel that everyone would be able to fall back on, and he valued her tremendously for that. And so, seeing her look so troubled after the exuberant song concerned him.

"Quinn? You okay?"

Quinn was silent for a moment, collecting her thoughts. Then she took a deep breath. It wasn't lost on Will that everyone else was suddenly quiet. There it was. When Quinn spoke, people listened.

"Mr. Schue, you asked us how we're feeling. The thing is, I'm feeling worried. Really worried, and kind of angry that no one else is."

Will was shocked. "What's wrong?"

Quinn stood up and faced everyone. "When I was in trouble last year, even though I didn't deserve it, you were all there for me. I'm really grateful for that. The thing is, now someone else is in trouble, another of our own, and no one seems to care. It just… it seems wrong.

"Yesterday we all knew something was wrong with the music, and it still is, because Rachel's not here. Now, I happen to know-" She broke off for a moment. She couldn't tell Rachel's secrets, that wasn't fair. "I found out she's not well right now," she continued, meeting every member's eye as she did so.

"But, it took us so long even to realise who was missing. Some people still didn't remember who we were talking about. Santana, you don't even have a nickname for her, that really freaked me out. Worst of all, even after remembering her name, I couldn't remember what she looked like.

"I saw her earlier today. She was having some trouble with some Cheerios." She gave Santana a meaningful look, and received a raised eyebrow in answer. "Guys, I just… I can't help feeling that something must be wrong, if there's a member of this club, this group, the one that describes itself as a family… who the others know nothing about." And she sat down, keeping her eyes on her desk. Mercedes was the first to speak.

"She's always so quiet. She never says anything, never disagrees."

"She never puts herself forward for anything," Artie noted.

"It's like she's trying to lose herself at the back." That was Puck, and everyone stared at him, surprised by the insightful comment. As the kids were speaking, Will felt a cold sensation run up and down his spine, because he had known all of that, but had never processed it. He had failed one of his kids, and that would not be tolerated.

"Thanks, you guys, and thanks Quinn for the wake-up call. You're all absolutely right. I'm sure we can all try to be a bit more friendly, involve Rachel a bit more. And I'll have a word with Miss Pillsbury, see if she has any advice."

There was a round of nods and murmurs of agreement, so Will clapped his hands.

"I think we'll leave it there for today, guys, but I want you working on your assignments, anyone who wants to do a song about how they're feeling, can. See you tomorrow."

As everyone was leaving, Will crossed over to Quinn. "I'm really proud of you for making the effort with this, Quinn." His voice was low, and with everyone leaving the room no one else heard him. "Keep going with it, okay? I think you're probably the best possible person to reach out to Rachel, if she does need help."

Quinn nodded, pleased that Mr. Schue was taking her seriously. Walking out, she found Santana and Brittany leaning against the wall outside, but they swung into step behind her as she made her way to the parking lot.

"Okay Q, spill. Cheerios?"

"She didn't say who, San. Probably didn't know. If I had to guess, I'd say it was some of the new girls, trying to make a name for themselves. I'd appreciate it if you'd have a word, though."

"It's done, Q."

"It's very disappointing behaviour. The scorpions that live in the showers are going to be, like, really mad," Brittany added in an unusually serious tone, and Quinn glanced at the other blonde. She loved Brittany dearly, but there were times the taller girl scared her witless, and she was certain that young cheerleaders would react even more strongly to Brittany's disappointment than to whatever horrors Santana had in store.

"Thanks girls. I'll text you later."

It was raining hard, the warmth of early September making the moisture irritating rather than refreshing, and Quinn hurried to her car slipping inside with practiced ease. She drove slower than normal, knowing how slippery the roads of Lima could get when it was raining, and that was why she saw the hunched figure walking along the street. She thanked God or fate or whatever for her good luck and pulled over slowly, careful not to drench the girl in dirty water. She wound down the window.

"Rachel? Do you want a ride?"

The look Rachel gave her was a weird mixture of hopeful, suspicious and just plain wet. In the end, wet won out and she climbed in the passenger seat, very conscious of the fact that she was soaking Quinn's seats.

"So, where am I taking you?"

"Um, the library please."

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Okay… did the school library not have the book you wanted?" The school had a pretty comprehensive collection of textbooks and reference materials, and it was rare for a student to need to go to the civic library.

Rachel shook her head. "The school library's fiction section is almost non-existent. I want something I can read, not something to copy in to a paper."

She shut up abruptly, almost as if shocked by her own words. Quinn was too, it was the first time Rachel had volunteered something in a conversation. Still, she made no comment: she was someone else who enjoyed reading for leisure, but when she wanted a book she just ordered it off Amazon, whose stock list was better than any library's in the world. That suggested that maybe Rachel didn't have a lot of cash to spare, and she really didn't want to broach that topic right now.

"Okay, but make a deal with me: I'll come in, get a book too, and then we'll go and get a cup of coffee."

Rachel shrank a bit in her seat. "Oh, I… I can't. Homework and-"

"Come on, my treat. We can talk about homework if you want, just to assuage your guilt."

Rachel stared. Quinn's eyes darted to her, then back to the road. She couldn't help smiling, but only said, "What?"

"You used 'assuage' in everyday conversation. Are you sure you're sixteen?"

"I'll have you know I'll be seventeen in a few weeks. And I like using big words in conversation, it facilitates the exponential development of our higher brain functions."

There was a snort, and Rachel Berry smiled. For the first time in what felt like… well, ever, she smiled, laughing silently.

~GLEE~

"That cannot be true."

"Absolutely it's true. Why would I lie about it?"

"Just because I can't think of a reason why doesn't mean you're not, Quinn. I refuse to believe that Coach Sylvester actually dislocated your shoulder for a day as part of your promotion to head cheerleader."

Quinn shrugged, smiling brightly, and took another sip of her coffee. Rachel's eyes narrowed.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"It's baloney, right?"

"You'll have to decide for yourself. I know it's the truth, I don't need to spend time proving it to you."

Rachel gaped. And quick as a flash, Quinn snatched a mini marshmallow from the top of Rachel's hot chocolate and threw it in her mouth. Rachel hurried to swallow it without choking, and then glared as Quinn laughed into her arm, not wanting to draw the attention of the rest of the clientele. Eventually Rachel joined in, and Quinn noted that she had a nice laugh. In fact, she had a nice voice. She wondered what Rachel's singing was like…

"You… you bitch! It was garbage, wasn't it?"

"Yup, 'fraid so." Quinn waited until Rachel took a sip, keeping her eyes completely level. "It was only a finger." And then she got sprayed with second-hand hot chocolate.

The Lima Bean was crowded, full of people sheltering from the driving rain outside, but it wasn't loud or hectic. The atmosphere was cosy, as though everyone had decided to be calm and quiet, all in one place. Quinn and Rachel had been lucky enough to find a booth that had just been vacated, and while they drank and talked, they could glance outside at the teeming rain.

"I love watching rain," Rachel said quietly, after a longer than usual pause in the conversation. "I love being warm and dry and safe, but being able to see the rain outside. I don't know why, but I just love it."

Quinn smiled gently. "I think most people feel that way, Rachel. I think it's a part of the human psyche. Quite a morbid one, actually."

"What do you mean?"

Quinn groped for a way to explain what she meant. She had never had a conversation like this before. She didn't really know anyone who'd want to talk about this stuff.

"You know… you know at Christmas, people are all happy and cheerful, and it's all light and warm and wonderful?" Rachel nodded. "Did that never seem odd to you? It happens in the middle of Winter, a time of the year when plants die, or at least seem to, and quite a lot of animals do too. It's dark and it's cold, or at least it is in North West Europe, where most of the Christmas traditions we know come from. And yet there's this little island of warmth in the middle, when everyone is the happiest they are all year."

"But that's because of what happened at Christmas. It was the light coming into the dark world, or something like that, wasn't it?"

Quinn smiled. "I warn you, I've thought a lot about this stuff, wrote a paper on it last year, so I've got facts to back me up. If we continue this conversation, it's going to get lecture-y. If you want out, say so now. I really won't hold it against you."

Rachel took a long sip of her drink. "I'm game. You seem to care about this so, let it rip."

Quinn took a deep breath. "Scholars actually don't know exactly when Jesus was born. The whole thing about the census in the Roman world, there's no evidence for it. That doesn't mean it didn't happen, it just means we don't know when. Some people think he was born in the Spring, others in the Summer, but we just don't really know. But the Romans, when Christianity became, like, the religion of choice for them, put it then, and they did it deliberately.

"When the Romans conquered a place they didn't outlaw existing religions or anything, they kind of melded them into the ones they already had. And they did the same thing with Christianity, and needed to find the right festival to merge Christmas with. They decided on their own feast of Saturnalia, which had already been mixed up with loads of other midwinter festivals, because they all had something in common already. It was all about light in the middle of the darkness. So yes, that's why Christmas is when it is, but it's older than that, way older. Like, thousands and thousands of years. People lit fires in their homes to keep the light in at the darkest time of the year, and brought evergreens into the houses to do the same with the life."

"And you think loving the rain is the same thing?" Quinn wouldn't have blamed Rachel for sounding incredulous, or bored, but instead she sounded genuinely interested.

"To a lesser extent. It's not quite the same, but what is in this room if it's not warmth in the middle of cold, of light in the middle of… well, gloom, I guess."

Rachel giggled, but nodded. In the dim lights, the marks on her face were less notable. "Thanks for that. Light in the darkness? Sounds good to me."

Her voice had trailed off at the end, and distant, brooding cast coming over what had been a happy expression, and Quinn realised that maybe that topic of conversation hit a little too close for home. She hastened to change the subject.

"Another drink?"

A frown settled on Rachel's face. "I can't let you pay for another drink, Quinn. You've been very generous already, and I feel bad that… that I can't…"

_Swing and a miss, Quinn._ Not a good subject change. Quinn decided to ignore the awkwardness and barrel through.

"Nonsense, I like making my douche of a father pay for stuff. Another hot chocolate coming up." And she made her way over to the counter without waiting for Rachel to protest. As she waited in line she looked back over to the window booth. Rachel was staring out at the rain again, but her expression was pensive, and Quinn hoped fervently that she was doing the right thing. She was really enjoying talking to the girl and getting to know her, and found it so refreshing that they could talk about pretty much anything, but she also worried that acting this way might lead to more trouble for Rachel. She only trusted that Rachel would have told her if that was the case.

Eventually her order was ready, and she carried the two drinks and a large cookie on a plate over. Sitting down she broke the cookie cleanly in half and slid one part over to Rachel, who smiled her thanks, but then her look turned puzzled.

"Quinn, why are you doing this?"

"Do I need a reason to spend time with a fellow gleek?"

Rachel raised one eyebrow, a gesture every bit as challenging yet elegant as the one Quinn patented. "Normally I'd say no, but it's never happened before."

Quinn looked hard at her. "It might have done, if you hadn't perfected your camouflage so completely." Rachel blushed and took a nibble of her cookie. "I'm doing this for lots of reasons, Rachel. Because you need a friend. Because I'm hoping you might talk to me eventually about yourself – yes, I did notice that we've avoided the subject entirely till now. Because it's the right thing to do. Because I feel like it. Because I can talk to you in weirdly long sentences without having to explain them again when I reach the other end." She paused when Rachel giggled.

"Because I like to think I'm different now. Because I recently came out to my mother and the glee club, and that taught me not to discount anyone. Mostly, though, because you kind of looked like a drowned ferret when I saw you walking home."

Rachel stared at her. "Ferret?"

"Ferret," Quinn stated with confidence. All sleek and shiny, but miserable and liable to bite when cornered."

"I've never bitten anyone in my life."

"Really? You haven't lived."

Not only was her laugh nice, Quinn realised: it was infectious too. When they calmed down, she realised she needed to get to the point.

"Look… come to glee tomorrow. Even if you still can't sing, you should be there. It's not right without you in the room. Everyone will feel better if you come."

Rachel sighed. "Okay, I'll do it, but I'd really like it if no one makes a big deal. Now, thanks for the drinks, and the life, but I really have to get home."

"Not a problem." Quinn smiled again. "Where do you live?"

~GLEE~

_AN:_

_Slightly longer chapter. Sorry for the long update time, but I warn you: updates will not be rapid, or regular. I'm a highly undisciplined writer, and suck at stuff like that._

_Someone asked whether I'd be staying with Quinn's point of view. The answer is, I'm not using PoV. I'm using narrative. So far it's been a bit Quinn-centric, but it will move around. I've never seriously tried first person writing before, and while I might try one day, today is not that day._

_As for what's up with Rachel, two clues in this chapter: she was drinking regular hot chocolate with marshmallows in, and having a discussion about Christmas. The message was meant to be 'she's not Vegan, she's not Jewish'. Make of that what you will._

_Tom_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"Hey, Emma, can I have a word?"

He was standing, unusually enough, outside her office, just his head poking in, and with everything that had happened last year and over the summer he wasn't exactly sure where they stood. But Emma looked at him as she always did, with the quirky little smile and the huge eyes, and he knew they were okay.

"Sure, Will. Problems with the glee kids?"

Will let out a breath as he sat in one of her chairs, the relevance of that question not lost on him.

"Kind of. I wondered if you can tell me anything about Rachel Berry. She's in glee but no one really knows her, and she's been absent so we're worried."

"Rachel Berry?" Emma's face folds into a thoughtful frown. "I've never actually spoken to her, though I've tried to make appointments. She always cancels them and then doesn't reschedule. She's not well?"

"She's been in school, but not to glee, and it's kind of weird. She's normally always there. I don't know if you can answer, but why were you trying to make an appointment?"

Emma considered for a moment. "It's not like it's privileged information. Rachel was given up for adoption as a baby, then lived in the care system until she was six, when she was adopted. I try to meet with any students with what might be a difficult background, see if they need any help. I didn't push harder, though, because her situation on paper isn't as difficult as some. You think she's having trouble?"

"Quinn Fabray said she'd had a run in with some Cheerios, they're giving her a hard time. I… I don't know what to do now, Emma. Should I pursue this, or ease up, or what?"

Emma considered. "You say Quinn Fabray told you about the Cheerios, how did she know?"

Will went back and told her everything, from realising that Rachel wasn't there on Monday to Quinn's impassioned speech the day before.

"Well, Will, I actually think you're already on the right track. Quinn's obviously forming some kind of bond with this girl, and I think we can trust her to do the right thing. You just need to be supportive in School and in glee, and let Quinn take the lead on anything else."

Will exhaled loudly, relief evident. "Thanks, Emma. Good to know I got something right. Look," he began, completely on a whim, "Would you like to go to dinner with me tonight?"

She looked up at him for a moment with those crazy-big eyes, and then beamed. "Sure Will. I'd love to."

As he made his way over to Spanish class, Will could hardly remember a meeting he'd left feeling happier.

~GLEE~

"Dude, this assignment was a great idea."

Finn looked over at Puck, and saw that his friend was totally serious, mostly because he wasn't even looking at him: instead he was absently strumming at his guitar and staring at nothing. Finn chuckled.

"Wow, the big bad Puckasaurus, all excited about a glee assignment."

"Shove it. I… I haven't been feelin' good lately, man." Finn turned to Puck fully now, his eyes wide.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Haven't been able to focus. Keep thinkin' about… well, stuff. I figure this assignment will give me a chance to vent, you know?"

"Absolutely, dude."

"So what are you doing?"

"Oh, I thought I'd do something about how hard I'm working to improve my dancing. Work it in a little."

Puck snorted. "Serious? Dude, you're shittin' me."

"Laugh it up, Puck." Finn was quiet for a while. "Quinn was acting kind of weird yesterday, wasn't she?"

Puck glanced towards the back row where Quinn was sitting, right next to that Rachel chick. He smiled, knowing that he would never really have her as he might want to, but knowing they couldn't be parted either, not really. He glanced at Rachel and wondered what was going on. Whatever; it was kind of nice to see her here.

"Not weird for her, man. Girl's deep; she thinks, she understands. It's like… she went through so much crap last year, and she's come out so much better. Like… smelting."

Finn's brow creased. "Smelting? Sounds like something in shop."

Puck shrugged. "Maybe it is, but I heard about it in chem last year. One of the few things I remember. To get metal, you take the ore and then burn it, heat it really hot, and everything that's not metal gets burned away. It's like, to get the pure stuff, the good stuff, you have to go through a whole heap of shit first."

Finn stared at his friend. "Dude, sounds like you're getting pretty deep yourself. You okay?"

"I'll be fine." Puck shrugged. "I think I'll feel better after singing something."

Mr. Schue chose that moment to come in, and the session started. Lots of people wanted to sing what they'd come up with: Brittany and Santana did a hilarious song and dance routine to 'Sunshine, Lollipops and Rainbows', followed by Artie doing an even funnier rendition of 'Walk this Way'. Puck had to admire the way the guy owned his situation. Nothing and no one were ever going to stop Artie Abrams from being who he was.

Then Finn got to his feet. "I know my dancing's pretty terrible, but I have been getting better at it. I'm working hard and I'm proud of how I'm doing. So, I thought I'd sing about that with a little classic rock."

Interest perked up as he stood before them and signalled to the drummer, guitarist and bass player off to the side. The song began with a simple, syncopated drumbeat being repeated, with a bass line joining in soon afterwards. Once the whole band joined in, Finn, who'd been tapping his feet in time with the beat, executed a reasonable spin on the spot and began to sing.

'_I've been working so hard,_

_I'm punching my card._

_Eight hours, for what?_

_Oh, tell me what I got_

_I've got this feeling_

_That time's just holding me down._

_I'll hit the ceiling _

_Or else I'll tear up this town…_

_Tonight I gotta cut loose, footloose,_

_Kick off your Sunday shoes._

_Please, Louise, _

_Pull me off of my knees._

_Jack, get back,_

_C'mon before we crack_

_Lose your blues,_

_Everybody cut footloose.'_

Finn dancing to the Kenny Loggins classic was a far stretch from Kevin Bacon, but it was better than anything the glee club had seen him do before, and for the second verse Mike and Brittany leapt to the front and danced along.

'_You're playing so cool,_

_Obeying every rule._

_Dig a way down in your heart,_

_You're burning and yearning for someone,_

_Somebody to tell you_

_That life ain't passing you by._

_I'm trying to tell you,_

_It will if you don't even try_

_You can fly,_

_If you'd only cut loose, footloose.'_

By now everyone was singing and dancing along, including Mr Schue, who had been a teenager when the film of Footloose had been released and was unable to resist resurrecting a few of the 80s dance routines that had been used in the movie. Finn, kept singing, delighted by his team's response to one of his favourite songs. Right on cue, most of the club yelled,

"First!"

'_We got to turn me around,'_

"Second!"

'_And put your feet on the ground.'_

"Third!"

'_Now take a hold of the phone,'_

The whole team joined in with the rising chord, and then cut off to silence as Finn sang the final line:

'_I'm turnin' it loose,_

_Footloose!'_

The cheers that followed were tumultuous, and Will clapped his hands, trying to regain some order but unable to keep the huge grin off his face.

"Fantastic job, Finn! How many extra lessons did you need with Mike?"

There was some teasing laughter, but Finn was properly proud of his improvements. Mr. Schue continued. "With a bit of work we might just have a contender for sectionals there, so congratulations, Finn!" There was some more clapping, and Will looked at his watch.

"Anyone else want to perform for us before we call it a night?"

"Yo, Mr. Schue."

Will raised an eyebrow. Puck's performances were always risky, but he couldn't deny the young man his chance, and besides, he had come up with some really beautiful stuff before, so he gestured for everyone to take their seats as Puck came to the front, guitar at the ready.

"The 'How do you feel' thing, I was worried at first, 'cos I've been feeling kinda down all summer, and I didn't wanna bum anyone out. But then I thought about it, and I realised that mostly I... I miss Beth."

Everyone was silent, and Quinn stared at Puck, her eyes wide, wondering where he was going. Rachel noticed her new friend –_friend!-_ her new friend's expression, and impulsively grabbed her hand, and Quinn turned to give the smaller girl a quick smile before turning back to Puck.

"I know… I know Quinn did the right thing. Beth will grow up happy, have everything she wants, and me and Quinn wouldn't be able to give her that. So, I guess I'm happy for her, I'm just not happy. Whatever."

It was obvious that saying these things, in front of so many people, was really difficult for Puck. Tina and Kurt both had tears in their eyes, and Quinn wasn't far behind.

"I couldn't find a song that really said what I feel, but I realised it didn't need to; it needs to show how I feel, and that's about the performance, I guess. Still, one song kept coming back to me. It's a bit of a weird choice for me, but I remember my mom singing it to me, and my sister, when we were little, and back when Quinn was pregnant, and Beth was keeping her awake, I sang this to them sometimes, and it seemed to help. So, here goes."

Puck closed his eyes, and his right hand began gently stroking the strings, picking out a soft chord in a minor key. He kept his eyes closed as he began to sing.

'_A gentle breeze from Hushabye Mountain_

_Softly blows o'er lullaby bay._

_It fills the sails of boats that are waiting,_

_Waiting to sail your worries away.'_

As the first verse end a small group of instrumentalists standing nearby joined in: a cello, a viola and two flutes, adding to the haunting, melancholy tone of the lullaby. Puck continued, his eyes open now and looking straight at Quinn.

'_It isn't far to Hushabye Mountain,_

_And your boat waits down by the quay._

_The winds of night so softly are sighing:_

_Soon they will fly your troubles to sea.'_

Rachel looked from Puck, who she had really only ever known as one of the cruel jocks who liked to slushy losers like her, to Quinn, and she felt something tug in her chest when she saw the tears pouring down the blonde's perfect cheeks. She couldn't help herself, but moved her chair closer quietly and wrapped her arms around the sobbing girl. It reminded her that, however bad she might think her life is sometimes, Quinn had been through worse. Her embraced tightened, and Quinn held the smaller girl's arms around her, resting her head on Rachel's shoulder and smiling, despite the tears, as Pucks voice rose effortlessly for the last part of the song.

'_So close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain._

_Wave good-bye to cares of the day._

_And watch your boat from Hushabye Mountain_

_Sail far away from lullaby bay.'_

There was an almost awed silence when Puck finished. No one clapped, for which Will was glad. Puck stood up, put his guitar down on his seat, and walked straight over to Quinn. He glanced quickly at Rachel, who nodded as she let go of her friend, and let Puck draw Quinn to her feet and into his arms.

"I think about her all the time, Quinn. And I'm so sorry that you, that both of us, had to go through so much to do the right thing, and especially you. Please just, just remember that she's on my mind. Always."

Quinn nodded, unable to speak through her tears, and Puck, in a rare display of vulnerability, left the room without another word, not wanting to talk to anyone right then. Mr. Schue ended glee quietly, and they all left gradually, everyone giving Quinn her space.

Except for Rachel, who remained nearby, determined to be there for her new friend. That was what friends did, right? It made her feel surprisingly good to be able to do that much, at least.

~GLEE~

Quinn pulled up in front of the house Rachel had indicated, curious despite herself, despite the stern warnings she had given herself about pushing too far and too fast. Her curiosity grew when she saw it: it wasn't dissimilar to her own house. Spacious and with an air of restrained, mildly affluent luxury, on a street full of houses almost, but not entirely, identical. There were two cars on the driveway, the makes and models again indicative of a family that was fairly well off: a shiny silver executive Audi stood next to a slightly more worn looking Volvo station wagon. There was nothing here that was out of the ordinary, except…

The mailbox. Perfectly normal, except for the name stencilled on it, which was Grant. A common enough name, Quinn guessed, but not Rachel's. Rachel, she knew, was Rachel Berry, a weirdly distinctive name. A few signals flared in her mind, offering new possibilities: Rachel was obviously fostered, or maybe adopted. Maybe…

Rachel opened her door, the mechanical _clunk_ effectively cutting off Quinn's train of thought. Rachel offered a shy smile.

"Thanks for the lift, Quinn. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Absolutely." Quinn hesitated for a moment, and then carried on, hoping she was doing the right thing. "And make sure you're at glee tomorrow, Rach. My turn to sing." And with a wide smile and a little wave, the blonde was gone.

Rachel smiled too, but it faded when she turned to look at the house behind her. She sighed and trudged in, her gait slow and ponderous as though she resented every step. She opened the door softly and closed it behind her, but her efforts to be quiet were clearly in vain, as when she turned a tall woman with pale blonde hair was looking at her.

"Hello Rachel. You're home early."

There was no warmth in the voice, no emotion of any sort. Rachel almost wished for anger, rather than this blankness.

Almost.

"Hi, mom. I… I got a lift home with a friend."

The statuesque beauty raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow in a rare show of surprise. Or maybe derision.

"A friend? I wasn't aware that you had any friends."

Rachel shifted uncomfortably, wishing she could escape and knowing she couldn't. "Quinn's a new friend, but we've been in glee together for a while."

Charlotte Grant's lip curled. Rachel assumed it was the woman's continued and well-expressed dislike of all things glee that caused the look, but that proved wrong.

"Quinn? As in Quinn Fabray? The little slut who got herself knocked up last year?"

Rachel gasped, unable to hide her shock at the woman's blunt summary. Stiffening, she stared coldly at her 'mother'.

"She's not a slut. She made one mistake, and she's the bravest person I've ever met. It's not fair of you to-"

_Smack!_

The sound of the slap echoed around the house, resounding from cold rooms rarely used. Rachel raised her hand to her cheek, which she could feel heating up. She didn't make a sound. That had actually been pretty light, all things considered. It didn't even sting much, after the initial shock. She slowly turned her head back, and Charlotte was a bit disconcerted when, instead of lowering her eyes to the floor as usual, the girl met her gaze.

"You dare to speak back to me? You think you have a right to be heard, after what you've done? With what you _are_?"

"And what am I, mom?"

"You're a freak, girl!" Charlotte lost it completely, grabbing Rachel by the arm and throwing her towards the stairs. "Go to your room and stay there. Don't think about coming out again. I don't want to see you for the rest of the day. Go on, get!"

Rachel got to her feet, having stumbled and fallen as she was thrown, and climbed the stairs silently, with as much dignity as she could muster. On the landing an open door caught her eye, the walls inside painted a nice, cheerful blue. Poking her head through, Rachel caught sight of a small, blond head of hair.

Matthew Grant was nearly four now, and the most beautiful child Rachel had ever known. He was a sweet-natured child and she loved him very much, but looking at him broke her heart, every single time. And so, she backed out of the room and continued on towards her own. Closing the door behind her she let out a breath. She was safe… at least until Doug got home. He was probably out jogging now, and he was always tetchy when he got back from that. For the millionth time, Rachel wished she had the guts to put a bolt on her bedroom door.

For now she lay back on the rather worn bed, hearing the springs creak beneath her, stared up at the cracked paint on the ceiling, and thought. She thought about glee club, about Finn and Puck. She thought about her parents, her adoptive parents and the real ones, and about her little brother, not by blood maybe but just as much her brother. She thought about herself, about, as her mother had said, what she was, and what she had done.

Most of all, though, she thought of Quinn. Quinn who was so beautiful in so many different ways, who had taken the trouble to help and befriend her when she had just about given up on that happening, and had tried for so long to prevent it. And she thought of tomorrow, when she would hear the other girl sing. And she fell asleep, unusually undisturbed, with a smile on her face.

~GLEE~

AN:

Ok, first thing, I'm still publishing this un-beta'd: if anyone's interested, please let me know.

I think the only other thing I want to say is, someone asked me to let Rachel sing soon, and she's going to, but I thought I'd better clarify something. Rachel in this version is not a diva, doesn't dwell in her dreams of Broadway, because her adoptive parents have never encouraged that. They think it's a waste of time. That's all about upbringing. What hasn't changed, because it's so integral to who Rachel is, is her talent. She's just as good a singer as she always is, because it's part of who Rachel is for that to be true. I thought the first line of the story hinted at that quite strongly…

I do usually answer questions asked of me, unless doing so would mean a major spoiler, so feel free to ask.

Oh, also, I'd better attribute the songs properly. Last chapter I used words from 'I'm So Excited' by the Pointer Sisters, and this chapter 'Footloose' by Kenny Loggins and 'Hushabye Mountain'… I'm not sure who wrote that, but it's from the musical 'Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang'.

Oh, and I own nothing. Probably should have mentioned that to start with…


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"Stupid, ugly babies! You think this is hard, try removing your own appendix in a warzone, that's hard!"

Cheerios practice was over for the day, as evidenced by the sight of Sue Sylvester storming towards the school buildings, trying to disguise the fact that she was actually pleased by the squad's progress. The collected Cheerios, still immaculate in their pristine red and white uniforms, heaved a collective sigh of release and prepared to return to the locker rooms.

"Hold it, ladies. We want a word."

There was instantly silence. Some of the new girls had never seen this particular expression on Santana Lopez's face, but the feeling they were getting from the ones who had – barely suppressed terror – clued them in that this was not going to be pretty.

"I'd like to propose a hypothetical dilemma to you girls 'cos, as we all know, a Cheerio isn't just pretty and talented; a true Cheerio is smart too." Santana was leaning against one of the floodlight supports, arms crossed in front of her, the very picture of nonchalance… except for the fury that everyone knew was just barely being kept at bay behind her dark, expressive eyes. Brittany stood next to her, a pace or so behind, standing straight and tall with the impeccable posture of the born dancer. Her piercingly innocent blue eyes peered into every face in turn, and found many wanting.

"I'd like you all to think about which is worse. Let's say, for example, that some of you decide _not_ to slushy a few people… members of the glee club, for example." A few faces sharpened with horrified understanding. "Now, we all know that coach said, and Brittany will quote,"

"'I want them gone, I want them dead, I want them wiped from the face of the planet,'" Brittany intoned, word perfect but speaking in her standard, slow-paced monotone. It amazed Santana that people actually thought Brittany was dumb. How was it so few people realised that no one could be as dumb as Brittany pretended to be without being very, very smart indeed?

"Thank you, Britt. I'd like to remind you all, though, that coach has a bit of a temper, and an explosive one at that. She will yell, she will rant, she will throw things, though usually not actually at someone. But, that having happened, she will quite often let it go. Come up with a new scheme, or even have a complete change of heart for no adequately explained reason. Do you all get this?"

There was no sound, but a bizarrely amusing sight of around thirty heads bobbing in unison, high ponies and bob cuts bouncing just a fraction of a second behind. Santana smothered the laughter she felt at the sight, and continued.

"Contrast that, if you will, with what you know will, without a shadow of a doubt, happen if you _do_ victimise a member of glee again. Because, you see, there are some truly scary people in that club, girls. You've got a significant number of the football team, one or two scarily talented bitches with even more attitude that talent, a few geeks with truly Machiavellian minds when it comes to formulating revenge… and your two head cheerleaders, who you **know**, absolutely for certain, will make your lives a living hell. And we are not explosive, girls. We are slow burn. We will destroy you over a period of months, or maybe years, never relenting in our pursuit of justice.

"Oh, and those of you who never met her, have you all at least heard about Quinn Fabray? The last head cheerleader? Who got pregnant last year, thrown out of her home and now walks around with a permanent smile on her face, looking like a freaking angel descended to earth? Yeah? Now, how many of you are completely, one hundred percent certain that she is, like, totally balanced, and completely unlikely to go on a vicious and bloody killing spree if pushed too far?"

There was no sound, except for the wind picking up as evening drew up on the football field. Santana smiled.

"I thought so. So, the conundrum is this: the possible wrath of Sue, or your sure and certain destruction at the hands of a group of maladjusted maniacs with sheet music?"

"Lord Tubbington is like, really pissed off, guys," Brittany put in, her face looking almost sad. "I really don't know what he's capable of when he's like this, and I don't know where he goes at night. I worry, I really do." She shook her head mournfully, and Santana mentally punched the air. Brittany was just so fucking perfect.

"Go, girls, and bear us in mind next time you buy a slushy."

The girls set off at a run, but Santana's voice cracked over the herd like a whiplash. "Oh, Janine? Quick word, please?"

The hapless girl walked forward stiffly, apparently braced for a blow. Santana smiled in her trademark terrifying way. The younger girl, a freshman recruit, was slightly taller than Santana, with vivid, curly red hair pulled back in a scrunchy and a few delicate freckles across her pale face. Despite being taller, she recoiled when Santana spoke as though she'd actually been struck.

"Now, I know that you were involved in a group slushy. I know it happened, I know who was there… and I know that you, Janine, kicked Rachel Berry rather hard when she was lying on the floor, completely unable to breathe."

Janine's eyes darted left and right, as though searching for an escape route. "Wh- what are you talking a-"

"Can it, big red." Santana's voice lost all its fake sweetness as she pushed herself off her post and got right into Janine's space, her accusing finger so close that the redhead's eyes crossed trying to look at it. "Santana knows everything – a mantra to live by. Now, I know bitchy. I know it well, and for totally obvious reasons."

Brittany didn't really like it when Santana talked about herself that way, and reached forward to stroke the smaller girl's arm briefly. Santana's eyes fluttered closed for a moment, unable to resist her girlfriend's touch, but refocused instantly.

"Here's what you need to learn. Bitchy isn't necessarily a bad thing. Certain people can turn it into an art form." She couldn't resist preening slightly, and could almost hear Britt roll her eyes behind her. "But, only so much is tolerated. Clever bitchiness, that's fine. Bitch to your heart's content, although be aware, if your bitching comes onto my radar again, I will ends you. No one can out-bitch me." At this she actually jabbed her finger into Janine's forehead, and the freshman staggered back as if she had been shoved.

"But, and I will say this only once, violence is not, is _never_, the true way of the bitch. It's like Zen, girl, it's all about attitude, and never about _fucking kicking girls when they're lying in a puddle of slushy and can't breathe!"_

Brittany darted forward and held Santana back, as the Latina lunged forward, intent on laying into the younger girl. Janine cowered, true terror in her eyes. Santana stopped, took a deep breath and stood up straight. Her eyes shot daggers at their target.

"Get out of here, Janine. And if I were you, I'd keep an especially low profile, because eventually, even Brittany's patience is going to wear just a little thin. Know what I mean?" Janine nodded like she wanted her head to fall off, then sprinted for the showers. Brittany smiled, wrapping her arms around Santana from behind and placing a soft kiss on her girlfriend's neck, just below her ear, causing the Latina to shiver.

"And that is how you use your super powers for good instead of evil, S," she murmured happily. Santana turned in her arms.

"I think I probably would have fallen to the dark side a long time ago without you, B," she muttered, unusually open and vulnerable, even if Brittany was the only one there. The blonde smiled warmly, and placed a kiss on the lips she loved more than anyone's.

"Come on, San, let's go home. This is where the superhero gets their reward."

Santana brightened instantly, the familiar glint back in her dark eyes.

"For reals?"

Brittany and Santana turned and walked towards the parking lot, pinkies as ever linked, secure in the knowledge that no cheerleader would bother Rachel Berry for a long time.

~GLEE~

Rachel let out a deep breath as she stood in the tiny, not-really sanctuary of her locker. Her shoulders were hunched under her loose grey jumper, her hands, arms and face all turned into the tiny aperture that offered a tiny piece of momentary safety in the halls of McKinley. Or it had until a hand pushed her too far in, causing her to cry out as she hit her head and arms on the metal frame. The hand wasn't finished though. It then grabbed hold of her sweater and yanked hard, sending her stumbling back the width of the corridor, her back slamming into the lockers opposite hers. She winced, and then felt like screwing her eyes tight shut, because there, slushy in hand and smirk solidly in place, was Dave Karofsky.

The huge guy sneered at Rachel, who felt something inside her sink about a mile. She knew that Quinn was trying to get people to be nicer, and she really appreciated it; after all, all she had ever done here was try to keep out of everyone's face. But Karofsky went out of his way to make her life miserable, although, to be fair, he didn't discriminate: he acted the same way to all members of the glee club.

He stalked towards her, easily three times the size of the small girl, and drew his arm back. "Doctor Dave's in, freak. Want some medicine?"

"Why can't you leave her alone, Karofsky?"

Rachel had been half hoping that Quinn might come and stop what was happening, although she knew she couldn't count on her friend all the time. What she never expected was for Kurt to appear and get in Karofsky's face about it. She noticed in passing that the slim boy had already removed his jacket and shoulder bag, presumably in preparation for what he knew must be coming.

As Kurt stood next to Rachel, the two glee members trembling slightly, Dave's expression changed. At first it had been one of slightly cruel, malicious amusement. Now…

Now it was dangerous. Fury and hate blazed on top of other emotions too deep and too complex for Rachel to understand, but she thought she saw something like desperation in his gaze.

"Hummel. I thought you'd learn your lesson by now." He spoke through gritted teeth, a primal, almost animal snarl that made Rachel flinch. She had never been as impressed by someone as she was when Kurt didn't recoil but just kept staring, daring the other boy to do something.

"I learned my lesson about bullies a long time before I met you, you stupid ape. I learned that they're the ones who are sub-human, and not even worth noticing."

Rachel gasped and saw Karofsky nearly crush the slushy cup in his hand as the rage built. "You'll pay for that, fag."

"Not as much as you've obviously paid already. I mean, all those steroids must have shrunk your brain as well as your balls."

Karofsky roared, his arm pulling back for what was sure to be an extra-vicious slushy. There was a collective gasp, as by now the confrontation had built quite an audience, including Quinn, who was trying to fight her way to the front of the crowd.

For Rachel, though, everything changed to slow motion. She watched as the cup drew back, and through her mind flashed something she'd once heard that some ancient Greek had once said… Pythagoras, maybe?

'_Give me a lever and a place to stand, and I can move the world.'_

As the cup began to come forward, clearly going to dump its entire contents right in Kurt's face, Rachel darted forwards, quicker than she thought she'd ever moved before, and placed two fingers on the bottom of the cup, standing carefully to Karofsky's side, and pushed hard. The slushy, out of Dave's already lax control, sped up, moving too far under the combined force of the football player and the loser, going too far in its arc, and when the freezing gloop eventually left the cup the centrifugal force made it keep going and land… right on top of Karofsky's head.

There was a moment of utter stillness, and those who watched shared a common thought: _That girl is about eighty-five pounds of dead meat._ They were unable to look away, perhaps thinking they might be called on as witnesses to the inevitable murder trial. Even Quinn, struggling to get to her two friends still, froze in place, unable to believe what she was seeing.

Karofsky wiped his face, shaking his head like a dog to clear the slushy from his eyes and face, before turning that same, maniacal glare on Rachel, his fists clenched, fully prepared to pound the little nothing into the ground. Rachel, though, was having something of an out-of-body experience, quite unable to believe it as she stood defiant, hands on hips and glaring every bit as murderously back at the lumbering jock.

"So what, now you're going to beat me up? Feel free, I've had worse. You've already lost, though, because you don't scare us anymore, _Dave._ Go back to your teammates and enjoy your insecurities in the comfort of the most blatantly homoerotic game I've ever seen. Just leave the rest of us the hell alone!"

And she grabbed Kurt's arm and marched with him down the hall, the crowd parting in front of them and Quinn hurrying behind, leaving Karofsky looking completely blank behind them, unable to process what could possibly have just happened.

~GLEE~

The two girls and Kurt were the first into the choir room, and Rachel's cheeks were flushed with breathless laughter as the adrenaline washed over her. She grinned widely at Quinn, who felt her heart fluttering in her chest at the sight: Rachel was always pretty despite herself, and had had to work at hiding the fact, but looking as she did now and beaming happily at her, Quinn thought she looked positively radiant. She cursed herself for her bad timing: what a time to get her first real crush on a girl, and what a girl to crush on: a timid, damaged girl she was still trying to persuade into a simple friendship. And a girl who probably wasn't even gay…

Kurt was staring at Rachel, his huge eyes impossibly wide and his immaculate hair slightly ruffled from the dash down the halls. "That… that was so cool! Rachel, you were amazing! Thank you!"

Rachel turned to him, her smile diminishing now she wasn't looking at Quinn and her natural shyness reasserted itself.

"Not as cool as you; it was amazing the way you stood up to him like that. Thanks for stepping in."

"Yeah, well, Karofsky and I go way back. I've been dealing with him for… I don't know, a long time."

Rachel looked sharply at Kurt, who was now staring blankly into space, as though remembering something, and not something pleasant from the expression on his face. His voice had been laden with bitterness, and Rachel wondered just how much crap Kurt had been taking from the big guy. She decided to keep an eye open: she owed it to Kurt, who had never been mean to her and who was one of her fellow founder members of the club.

Quinn had been able to think properly once Rachel looked at Kurt, and now she was frowning. "I just hope this doesn't come back to haunt either of you. Karofsky can be a mean son of a bitch, and he does not like being embarrassed."

Rachel shrugged. "It had to be done. What happens, happens. We'll deal with it."

Quinn was going to say something else, urge the smaller girl to be cautious anyway, but at that moment the rest of glee started filing into the room. Quinn caught Santana's eye, who gave her a tiny smile and a nod before sitting in a seat right next to Brittany's, the two of them talking in low voices no one else could hear. Quinn took a deep breath, knowing that at least the Cheerios were no longer a problem.

Rachel tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned a smile on her new friend. Rachel grinned, a very slightly mischievous smile that made strange things happen in Quinn's stomach.

"I just wanted to say, I'm looking forward to your song. Good luck!"

Rachel and Kurt took two seats at the front, while Quinn remained standing. A few people noticed Rachel sitting at the front and talking so animatedly, but nothing was said: Quinn had passed on Rachel's request that people not make a big deal out of it if things started changing with her. Mr. Schue came sweeping in as usual at that point, smiling broadly at everyone.

"Okay, guys, how's everyone doing?"

"Good thanks, Mr. Schue," Mercedes replied.

"Anyone up for singing a song this afternoon?"

Mike stood up, breathing heavily from nerves. "Can I have a go, Mr. Schue?"

Will was surprised, but pleasantly so, and smiled at the tall Asian guy. "Sure Mike, be our guest."

Mike stepped out to the front. He didn't say anything, but smiled warmly at Tina, who beamed back, encouragement evident in her expression. And so, Mike began to sing, a little hesitantly at first, but it was obvious he'd been working hard and had improved a lot.

'What would you do if I sang out of tune,

_Would you stand up and walk out on me?_

_Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song,_

_And I'll try not to sing out of key.'_

The song was perfect for him, and obviously Tina thought so too. In fact, as more and more people joined in with the chorus, the thought struck pretty much everyone that the song was perfect for all of them. The last chorus, as Mike danced slowly with Tina, was belted by everyone with so much feeling that Will could feel moisture gathering in his eyes.

'_I'll get by with a little help from my friends.'_

Everyone laughed at the end of the song, and Tina jumped up to give Mike a kiss before sitting down next to him, broad grins on both their faces. Will clapped his hands to draw attention, but didn't have to ask the question before Kurt stood up.

"I couldn't think of anything to do for this assignment, until yesterday. Finn's song really inspired me, and something that happened earlier," he looked meaningfully at Rachel, "confirmed that this choice is the right one. Tina, Mercedes, Quinn, would you mind singing backup?"

Mercedes stood, as did the other two, but frowned. "But, what are we doing? We haven't rehearsed or anything."

Kurt grinned, surprisingly wolfishly. "Oh, you know this one." He gestured to Brad, and to Finn who had stationed himself at the drum kit, and the music burst outwards, rapid piano chords in a minor key. As the three singers recognised it they smiled broadly, especially Quinn, who now saw what Kurt had meant when he looked at Rachel that way. And then Kurt began to sing:

'_Where have all the good men gone,_

_And where are all the gods?_

_Where's the street-wise Hercules_

_To fight the rising odds?_

_Isn't there a white knight_

_Upon a fiery steed?_

_Late at night I toss and I turn,_

_And I dream of what I need:'_

The room literally erupted into the chorus. The guys didn't join in singing, but instead carried the girls around as they sang, while Kurt, powering out the tune, stepped from chair to chair, before jumping into a power slide, something so unlike him that even Will roared with laughter.

'_I need a hero!_

_I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night,_

_He's gotta be strong, and he's gotta be fast,_

_And he's gotta be fresh from the fight._

_I need a hero!_

_I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light,_

_He's gotta be sure, and it's gotta be soon,_

_And he's gotta be larger than life!'_

The song ended in laughter, but everyone had loved it. Kurt's impersonation of Bonnie Tylor was scarily accurate in places. Mr. Schue wiped a tear from his eyes as he brought everyone back again.

"Kurt, I'm so impressed. Before today, if I had had to name a flaw you had when it came to performing, I'd have said that you can be unwilling to step out of your comfort zone, but right now I can't even see it, so great job." More cheering followed, and Will was pleased to see Finn clapping his soon-to-be step brother on the shoulder while Puck patiently waited with a fist outstretched while Kurt worked out he wanted him to bump it.

"So, anyone else want their turn?"

Quinn stepped forward, smiling brightly. "I want to sing a song to Rachel today… I know we've all let you down in the past, Rach, but we want to change that. I'm hoping the song speaks for all of us. Also, I'm sorry it's a song we already did last year, and to Tina who sang the solo; I hope you don't take any offence if I give it a whirl."

Brad began playing, and Rachel felt her heart clench as she recognised the notes, that gentle pattern that they had, indeed, sung last year. Quinn's voice was different from Tina's, though. Tina's voice had an enchanting, clear, almost innocent tone to it, but Quinn's was warmer, an almost husky edge making the sound smoother, and Rachel could almost feel the music sliding down her spine like liquid sunshine, while the words, heartfelt and honest, blazed themselves across her mind.

'_You with the sad eyes,_

_Don't be discouraged._

_Oh I realise_

_It's hard to take courage._

_In a world full of people you can lose sight of it all,_

_And the darkness inside you can make you_

_Feel so small.'_

Rachel realised she was crying, and realised that a lot of the glee club were looking at her, wondering what the hell was going on. But at that moment, as Rachel watched the beautiful, wise and kind girl who was her first real friend sing to her, she realised that, for the first time ever, she didn't care. For once, she didn't mind people looking. Let them look. This was just too perfect a moment to waste on what other people thought.

'_But I see your true colours_

_Shining through,_

_I see your true colours,_

_And that's why I love you,_

_So don't be afraid to let them show:_

_Your true colours,_

_True colours,_

_Are beautiful like a rainbow.'_

As the song ended, for the second time in two days, there was silence in the room at the end of a performance. Will wondered what to do, and then realised. He inclined his head, meeting eyes with everyone except Quinn and Rachel, and then simply left the room. Tact was something few teenagers know well, but the glee club got the message, even Santana who was dying to make a snarky comment. This time, it wasn't worth it.

~GLEE~

Ha! Cliffy! Oooh, I'm so evil. Think Mr. Burns fingers.

Ok, I don't own anything, including Glee or the songs used in the chapter. I don't know who originally did True Colours, and I know that Ringo Starr did sing I'll Get By, but I don't know if he did it first. I'm pretty sure, though, that Bonnie Tylor is responsible for the version of Holding Out for a Hero that everyone knows, so blame her.

Still no beta. If no one's interested, I'll just keep posting it like this, there's no skin off my nose. Thanks for reviews. I won't ask for more, I kind of hate that, but those I do get are appreciated.

And yes, you might have guessed, but the idea of Quinn singing True Colours to Rachel is basically the original idea that led to this fic, hence its title. Go figure, it takes me four chapters to get to the point…

Peace out, y'all.

Damn, I can't even get away with that in writing.

Tom


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Warning for extreme language, and moderate violence**

Chapter Five

"Quinn, that was beautiful."

Quinn smiled, the shy smile she hadn't really used since she was eight and her father had told her off for not looking him in the eye. Her head tilted down and to the side, as though she was looking at something on her own cardigan.

"Thanks, but I'm no Mercedes, and Tina and Santana are much bet-"

"No," Rachel interrupted, her eyes still locked on the blonde as she stood. "That… that was beautiful. Everything about it. And whatever people say about other people's voices, I'd rather listen to yours." Rachel's voice was small, uncertain, as though nervous of how what she was saying would be received, but she was saying it anyway, and Quinn realised that Rachel trusted her, trusted her not to brush her off or put her down for speaking her mind. The realisation, along with the compliment, made her break into her huge, mega-watt smile that had served her so well as head cheerleader. She walked over and hugged Rachel, trying her hardest to focus on the girl, and not on the feelings coursing through her mind and body.

"That might just be the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me, Rachel. Thank you."

Rachel ducked her head, hiding her face through embarrassment. "You're welcome. Um, I should probably go."

Panic shot through Quinn. Had she done something wrong? "Don't you want a lift home? Or to the library or something? I can-"

"Thanks, Quinn, but no." Rachel straightened and looked Quinn full in the face, smiling a real, unforced smile. "I'd love to hang out or something, but… I kind of need to think through a few things. I've put it off long enough already, and I should really just face up to it. Rest assured, I'll be back to mooching lifts off you again soon. Maybe tomorrow?"

They continued walking towards the parking lot, Quinn almost sagging from relief. "Sure, tomorrow sounds good. I guess I'll see you in glee."

"Yeah, if not before." That meant in the halls. It was a cruelty of the scheduling system, but the two didn't share a single lesson. It sucked, but neither had felt up to mentioning that they felt this way… or admitting to checking through the respective timetables. Quinn took a deep breath, deciding to take what was probably too much of a risk. She just couldn't resist it.

"You know, I was wondering… How would you feel about singing something tomorrow? I've never really heard you sing."

They were in the parking lot now, and an evening breeze was cooling the hot September day. Rachel stopped walking and looked at Quinn, her expression one of nervous anticipation. She cleared her throat.

"Actually I… I have been working on something. I don't think I can sing it in front of everyone, but… come with me to the auditorium after glee. I don't mind if it's just you."

Quinn beamed. It might not be in front of the whole club, but this was almost better. She felt a bit selfish for thinking that, but allowed herself the moment of conceit. Anyway, the result was much better than she had expected, which had been a shy denial. "Absolutely. I'll look forward to it. Well…" she trailed off, realising that they had to part now, and keenly aware of how much she didn't want to. Rachel seemed to understand, smiling back and taking a step forward to hug her.

"See you tomorrow, Quinn. Have a good night."

And with that, Rachel began the long walk home, through the gathering autumn twilight.

~GLEE~

Rachel looked up as her bedroom door opened, her back stiffening reflexively. There had been no knock. Charlotte and Doug didn't think she deserved privacy… or anything, really. This time it was Doug who came in, tall handsome Doug with his floppy fair hair and his Ivy League education and his good if predictable job. He sneered as he looked around, taking in the peeling paint, the threadbare curtains and bedclothes, and the tattered books lined up neatly on the shelves, charity store bargains that Rachel treasured beyond reason. The room was very tidy, without any mess, the only things out of place being what Rachel was using to do her homework. Rachel had learnt that it was a good idea not to give the Grants any extra ammunition, like an untidy room, and didn't really have enough things to make much of a mess anyway.

"Can I help you?" Her voice was studiedly polite, and Doug's cold blue eyes snapped back to her. Charlotte had been right, the girl was showing unusual nerve, not faltering in meeting her adoptive father's gaze.

"Your mother tells me you've made a friend."

Rachel didn't answer; it hadn't been a question. She did clench her jaw slightly at the word mother. She didn't even know what that word meant anymore. Doug scowled.

"Well?"

Rachel chose her words carefully. "I think I've made a few friends. I thought it was a good idea. Friendless people are conspicuous." She didn't believe that. She'd been friendless long enough to know the exact limits of the invisibility it bestowed. Doug grunted before speaking again, and there was a vicious edge to his voice when he did.

"Just don't make the mistake of thinking that they actually care for you. That will never happen, will it, Rachel?"

"No sir." Rachel's voice was barely a whisper, but still her large brown eyes refused to leave Doug's. He folded his arms, his expression morphing into something more familiar.

"This Fabray girl, though… you'll stop seeing her."

Rachel took a deep breath. "I can't do that. We're in glee club together."

"Don't talk back, girl!" The words whipped out like a lash, but there was still defiance in Rachel's eyes, and it was starting to make Doug angry. "You're to stop seeing her out of glee club. No more lifts, no more hanging out. She's dead to you. Got me?"

Rachel took a deep breath, bracing herself.

"No."

"What did you say?"

"I said no. I'm not going to stop talking to Quinn, or hanging out with her, or whatever I want to do. I'll be an adult soon, and you'll have no control of me then."

Doug strode forward, and grabbed her hard by the hair at the back of her neck causing her to cry out. He yanked her to her feet and right into him, till his mouth was right up to her ear.

"You're not eighteen yet, bitch," he snarled, "and until you are, I can and will make every second of your pathetic, freakshow life a living hell. You think you've had it rough so far?"

He threw her across the room. Her legs tried to keep up with her momentum, but inevitably she collapsed, hitting her dresser hard, her head smashing into the mirror that stood on it, causing a spider's web of cracks to bloom across it and to stun her momentarily into near insensibility. She looked blearily up at Doug, trying to get the room to stop spinning and ignore the pain screaming at her from her arm and side where they'd struck the dresser.

Doug walked over, and without hesitation, put his foot on the back of Rachel's neck, pressing down and not stopping until her head was on the floor, her body as limp as a ragdoll.

"Don't push me, you disgusting freak. Do you think anyone will help you? Who would bother with a worthless cunt like you?"

He pushed down with his foot again, squeezing every bit of air out of Rachel's body, before pushing away and leaving the room, slamming the door behind him. Rachel lay, gasping for air and trying to ignore the pain that seemed to be in every part of her body. It was some minutes before she felt able to pull herself, still shaky, to her feet, and over to the bed, where she sat down heavily.

She thought of Quinn, her beautiful, wonderful friend, and knew that she couldn't give up spending time with her, at least for as long as Quinn wanted her to. She would just have to endure everything else. It was the only way. And the moment she turned eighteen – _still more than a year away – _she was gone from this hellhole.

She stood up, making sure of her balance before straightening fully. She was very hungry, but knew better than to go downstairs hoping for a meal, or even to sneak down later on and scavenge for something to eat. Charlotte always knew, and the resulting treatment was not worth the satisfaction afforded by a mouthful of food, not unless she was really starving. Instead she walked to her door, opened it, and silently ghosted along the hall until she reached Matthew's room.

The little boy was lying awake in his bed, staring with wide eyes, and Rachel realised the poor kid had heard his father and become frightened. She walked over softly, knelt by the side of his bed, and opened her arms wide.

Matthew threw himself into her embrace, crying softly and squeezing her so tight that she winced: Doug had thrown her pretty hard, and she knew she'd have some bruises before long. She stroked Matthew's head softly, soothing him as best she could. He quieted gradually, and pulled back to look at her.

"Did Daddy hurt you, Rach?"

Rachel's heart, already under stress, broke one more time at the question, and at the lie it demanded. She smiled, not realising she was smiling through tears pouring unnoticed down her face.

"No kiddo, I'm fine. Nothing to worry about, okay?"

"But… but Daddy was yelling, and I heard-"

"Matty, it was just a little disagreement. No big deal. Not worth getting worked up over." Her head was aching, and she hoped Matty would go back to sleep soon: she badly needed an asprin.

"Rach, who's Quinn?"

The question surprised her, but she supposed it shouldn't have: neither she nor her father was quiet during their discussion. She smiled again.

"Quinn's my friend, my very good friend."

"A friend?"

"Mmm-hmm. In fact, she's my second favourite person in the world."

Matty's little, pale face scrunched up with pretend confusion. "The second? Who's most important?"

Rachel put on a shocked face for a moment, but then her hands darted forward, tickling up and down the little boy's sides lightly, and she grinned as she replied, "You, you little scamp!" over his delighted laughter. She stopped all too soon, though: she couldn't risk Doug and Charlotte hearing them. She eased Matty back under his covers, and caressed his forehead.

"You think you can get back to sleep, champ?"

Matthew shook his head, looking petulant. "Nuh-uh. Sleep's boring."

Rachel smiled, knowing how this would end: just another part of the relationship she treasured most in this house. "Well, I'll just leave you lying here, then, shall I?"

She made as if to get up, but Matty grabbed her arm. "No! Rach, please sing."

Rachel smiled, loving the request… and having accepted a long time ago that that little, plaintive voice was the nearest she was ever going to get to her dream of the Broadway stage and the crowds roaring for her to sing. She kissed him on the forehead again, thought for a moment, and then remembered the song Puck had sung only the day before.

'_A gentle breeze from Hushabye Mountain…'_

He was far gone long before she reached the end, but she sang the song through anyway, wanting to make sure she did her best by her audience. She stood, the tears falling slowly down her cheeks again, and silently made her way back to the dismal room and the cold bed that waited for her there.

~GLEE~

Rachel was having a bad day. She had slept through the alarm, meaning she didn't have time for both a shower and breakfast before school. And as hungry as she was, the shower was more urgent: not just for the obvious reasons, but because she had found blood stains on her pillow when she did wake up, and an investigative hand found her hair stuck painfully to a blood-caked wound she hadn't noticed last night, presumably sustained when her head hit the mirror, which had probably been bleeding sluggishly for much of the night.

She arrived at school clean but hungry, and with a headache with an attitude problem slamming against the inside of her skull, and the first thing she saw was Dave Karofsky standing over Kurt and smashing his fists into the locker behind the smaller boy, insane fury in his eyes. She was thankful he walked away from her when he left as she had no wish to get in his way, but hurried over to Kurt when the coast was clear: the guy looked completely terrified.

"Kurt? Kurt, what happened? What did he say?"

Kurt's unnaturally wide eyes eventually flickered her way and she could almost see the lie forming behind them.

"Oh, just Karofsky being Karofsky. You know. How are you this morning Rachel?" He took hold of her arm, his grip a little harder than necessary, and tried to walk her down the hallway, but Rachel stopped and turned him to look at her.

"How I am is concerned that my friend is being terrorised."

She didn't know where the confidence to say that came from. She and Kurt had never really spoken before yesterday, but she felt a bond with him, a link between them. Kurt looked away from her.

"Rachel, he's just a big tough guy afflicted with homophobia, and apparently a particular hatred of me. He's obnoxious, and I avoid him as much as I can, but I've dealt with him before and will again." He tried to walk away, but Rachel grabbed his arm.

"Kurt, I know you're not telling me everything. And I guess that's okay, we don't really know each other, but that doesn't really matter. You're my friend, and I don't like seeing my friend so scared. So, you don't have to talk to me, but I'd like you to know that you can."

Kurt smiled, a bit sadly, but genuinely as he looked at the small girl looking back at him so earnestly. Without warning her opened his arms and pulled Rachel into a hug. She was startled at first, flinching away from the contact, but it wasn't long before she hugged him back. As they let go, Kurt kept his hand on her shoulder for a moment.

"We really missed out all those years, didn't we?"

"What do you mean?"

Kurt linked their arms again, and this time Rachel walked with him as they went towards their different home rooms. "We missed out on a really spectacular friend."

Rachel blushed heavily.

When they got to the point where they needed to head in different directions, Kurt stopped and looked thoughtfully at her. He took hold of her scarf and adjusted it slightly, before saying softly, "I'm not the only one not talking about things, Rachel. And if anything, it looks like you have it worse."

With a violent start, Rachel realised that Kurt must have seen the ugly purple bruise on the side of her neck, from where Doug had stepped on it. She had tried to cover it up, but it was too big to conceal completely. She stared up at Kurt with her eyes wider than they'd ever been.

Kurt smiled gently and kissed her hair, taking care not to bump the injury there when he saw it.

"I'm not going to talk about it, Rachel, because it's not my place, but I think you should. And I am here if you do want to talk, but I know you're closer to Quinn, and that girl really is a good listener. So… think about, okay?"

Rachel nodded, unable to speak, gave Kurt a very brief hug and hurried away to begin her day.

~GLEE~

"Quinn?"

Quinn looked up at Kurt and smiled brightly, laying her pen down on the pad she was writing on. Kurt glanced at it and his eyes widened when he saw it was actually a music manuscript pad, the page half full of neatly-scored bars, but brought his attention back to the blonde.

"What's up Kurt?"

He looked around; the choir room was empty apart from the two of them: Quinn had a free period before glee on a Friday, and Kurt had made the effort to get here early, hoping her might catch his friend. He sat next to her and kept his voice low.

"I know you're getting closer to Rachel, and that's great. I think… I think I might be too. There's something about her, she just seems like a wonderful person."

Quinn's smile softened, her eyes gaining a far away look, and Kurt smirked internally, wondering how someone could go from officially coming out to crushing on someone in the same week, but kept his thoughts to himself.

"I know exactly what you mean."

Kurt nodded, but his expression was serious. "But, Quinn, I think someone's hurting her."

Her expression turned deadly serious is a flash. "What do you mean? Someone here at school?"

Kurt shook his head. "I have no idea who, but I saw bruises… bruises on her _neck_, Quinn, big, painful ones. And something gouged into her scalp too, her head was a bloody mess earlier. I just… I think someone is deliberately hurting her, and after what happened yesterday with Karofsky, I'm scared for her."

Quinn thought back to that first day she saw her, saw her lying in that puddle of slushy, and then later, cleaning it off, the bruises on her body. She cursed under her breath, and Kurt raised his eyebrows.

"You knew?"

Quinn shook her head. "I don't really know anything. It's just… you know when I said I though Rachel was in trouble? Well, that was because I'd seen marks on her too, bruises. I asked her about them, she said she just got into a fight, refused to talk about it. I haven't pushed. We seem to be making good progress, but I can't force her to talk."

Kurt nodded, thoughtfully. "Knowing what I do now, I'm not sure I believe the 'got into a fight' story. She's just not the type, that's clear. Beaten up, maybe, but actively fighting? It just sounds unnatural."

Quinn nodded too, her face miserable now. "I don't know how to help her. Like I said, I can't force her to talk. I can't tell a teacher or the police, 'cos I know nothing about how those marks happened and anyway, it would be betraying the trust I'm building."

Kurt rested a commiserating hand on her shoulder. "I know, Quinn. I think that all you can do is what you're already doing: be there for her, as much as you can, make sure she knows you care. Hopefully eventually she'll talk to you on her own, or at least agree to tell someone in authority what's going on. I'm going to do the same. Maybe I can't be there for her as much as you can, but I want her to know she has friends, in the plural sense."

"Thanks, Kurt." Quinn reached over on an impulse and hugged the guy. He was surprised at first, and she could hardly blame him. After all, not that long ago she wouldn't even have acknowledged his existence. Soon, though, he relaxed in it. After all, he had been the one to embrace her when she came out. "You're a good friend, to Rachel, and to me."

"I… I just hope the others take this seriously. I know everyone said they were going to try harder, but I'm worried they're not really going to put in any effort."

"We can't force them. If we tell them to do stuff it'll be forced and weird, and not real at all, and it'll end up worse. And again, we can't tell them what the problem is, not if we want Rachel to trust us. We're just gonna have to trust them to do the right thing."

"Trust who, baby mama?"

Puck strode into the room, followed soon after by Mike and Tina, Artie and Rachel, who took the seat on the other side of Quinn but smiled nervously at Kurt, adjusting the scarf again as she did so. Quinn smiled at her guy friend, so different from the one sitting next to her.

"You, doofus. But never mind why, it's not important."

"Whatever you say, Q, but you know you can trust me with anything." Puck's eyes were sincere, and Quinn was touched by the sentiment, though she couldn't resist teasing him.

"Yep, with absolutely anything. Except, of course, reliable contraception." She grinned wickedly to take the sting out of the comment, and Puck gave a small smile of his own in return.

Considering how much Quinn wanted glee to be over, it passed relatively quickly. Only Tina and Mercedes were left to sing their songs, since no one wanted to pressure Rachel by asking her to. Quinn couldn't have said afterwards what songs they sang, since all through both she was concentrating too hard: Rachel sang back up in both, as well as each doing it for the other, and Quinn was straining to discern what Rachel's voice was like, but she just couldn't. Either she just didn't have a very powerful or notable voice, or she was extremely good at blending it with others. She mentally prepared herself for either eventuality, determining to congratulate her and build her up either way.

"Okay guys, great job this week, I'm impressed. Not only have we had some great music, we've had some real self-expression, and it rocks. Now, starting next week we're going to begin preparing for Sectionals, so I want all of you to be thinking about numbers we might be able to do, or maybe how to arrange 'Footloose' for all of us and, most importantly, new members, guys. We're in desperate need of some more people, at the moment we're not big enough to compete, so whatever you can do to drum up support, go for it."

The room emptied slowly, Will staying around this time to sort some things out. He noticed Quinn and Rachel were the last two to leave. Quinn smiled at the other girl encouragingly.

"Are you okay? You ready?"

"Yeah." Rachel looked very nervous. "Just… don't worry if it's not good, okay? I've never really performed all by myself."

Quinn reached out, stroking the Rachel's shoulder gently. "Hey, there's no pressure here. If you don't want to…"

"No, I'm gonna do it…"

They left the room still talking. Will hadn't been able to ignore the conversation and was very curious to hear Rachel sing again. After all it had been a year since her audition; her voice might have gotten better in that time. He followed them at a discrete distance to the auditorium, where he stood in the shadows at the back, unseen by anyone. Rachel was standing on the stage, along with Brad, a cellist, a guitarist and a drummer who were setting up their instruments. Quinn sat on the front row, but Will couldn't see her face. His attention was drawn to Rachel when she began to speak.

"Last year, the club sang you a song, a song by Avril Lavigne, when we thought you needed to hear it. I'm not really a fan of hers, but this song is one of hers, and… it seemed appropriate. But," and she looked very intently at Quinn, "this isn't about how I feel. It's about how I've felt. How I've always felt, really, until this last week. I hope it's okay."

She gestured to the musicians to begin, but her eyes were screwed tightly shut, as though battling within herself to stay standing where she was. Will recognised the music at once, the soft, short guitar chords over a plaintive melody played low on the cello. And then Rachel began to sing.

'_I'm standing on a bridge,_

_I'm waiting in the dark,_

_I thought that you'd be here by now._

_There's nothing but the rain,_

_No footsteps on the ground,_

_I'm listening but there's no sound.'_

He stared, utterly amazed. That voice… it was remarkable! Smooth and rich, effortless, and as her voice rose in pitch for the bridge and the chorus he knew he'd never heard high notes quite like hers. He watched as her eyes opened, fixed on the blonde in front of her.

'_Isn't anyone tryin to find me?_

_Won't somebody come take me home?_

_It's a damn cold night,_

_Trying to figure out this life._

_Won't you_

_Take me by the hand, take me somewhere new,_

_I don't know who you are, but I… _

_I'm with you._

_I'm with you.'_

Quinn sat enchanted, tears running unchecked down her cheeks. She'd never heard anything more beautiful, and knew straight away that Rachel was by far the best singer she'd ever heard, better than Santana or Mercedes, just… better. Better in every way, because there was so much of her in what she was singing. She smiled through the second verse and listened enraptured to the high notes in the bridge:

'_Oh, why is everything so confusing?_

_Maybe I'm just out of my mind,_

_Yeah-he-yaa, Yeah-he-yah, Yeah-he-yah, Yeah-he-yah,_

_Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!'_

Will was cursing himself for not realising how Rachel had hidden herself away all this time, not only herself, but also her voice, her talent. He couldn't help wondering what would make a teenager want to deny their ability to this extent, and shuddered when possible answers occurred to him. Before he could think further on that, though, they were back to the chorus, this time soft, almost timid, but that voice still filled every inch of the room.

'_It's a damn cold night,_

_Trying to figure out this life._

_Won't you_

_Take me by the hand,_

_Take me somewhere new?_

_I don't know who you are, but I… _

_I'm with you._

_I'm with you.'_

The song came to an end and Quinn leapt out of her seat, applauding wildly, and Rachel smiled brightly at her, relishing the first praise she'd ever had for doing the thing she liked most in the world. She froze, though, when she heard another person clapping, slower than Quinn but no less sincere. She saw Mr. Schue walking down the slope towards the stage, still clapping, and Quinn whirled around, glaring at the teacher in anger.

"Mr. Schue, Rachel didn't want anyone else to hear! That was a really crappy thing to do."

Rachel looked scared, and embarrassed too, but Will just held up his hands in surrender as he approached them.

"And I'm sorry for that, I was just so curious… and then I was so impressed. Rachel, your voice is magical, it's so good! Why haven't you sung more, asked for solos, anything?"

She looked like she wanted to bold, but was staying anyway. "I… I never wanted to draw attention to myself. I still don't, I think, but… that felt so good…" she sounded dreamy as she thought back to her moment, singing on the stage all alone, and the praise from Quinn when she had finished. Will shook his head.

"I'm not going to pretend to understand your reasoning, Rachel. You could be the biggest star in the club, and so much more. I really think you have a chance to make it big with an instrument like that at your disposal."

He turned and started to walk away as Rachel jumped down from the stage and wrapped her in a hug. He paused and turned to look at her at the door.

"Don't let it go to waste."

~GLEE~

**AN**

Another chapter down, I'm not sure what's got into me. First thing, many thanks to the wonderful Cassicio for her beta work, it's much appreciated, and I don't own glee. Or the song by Avril Lavigne. Or (and thanks to the people who let me know,) True Colours, originally by Cindy Lauper.

Thanks to everyone who reviews, and I hope those of you who were hoping for a Rachel song are satisfied. I do have some more ideas floating around, but we'll get to them later…

I also feel I need to recommend some of my favourite Faberry fics. So, if you like future fics, try Sometime Around Midnight by pleasant-hell. My favourite (at the moment) ongoing fic is Somewhere in Between by , and also look out for Finding Prince Charming by Celtic Quill and Here I Come by DAgron01.

Think that's everything, as always comments / suggestions / criticisms gratefully received or ignored, depends on my mood

Tom


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Fin Hudson was having a pretty good day. He felt like things were good in his world. Sure, he was single, and a bit clueless about what might be in the future, but for right now he was happy. He had great friends, was captain of the football team, loved glee club, wasn't getting too much grief from the other jocks at the moment, and even seemed to be getting on top of his school work. Others might take this opportunity to worry about what would inevitably go wrong with this picture, but Finn was determined to enjoy his life.

He shared a small smile with Quinn as they passed each other, amazed as always not only with how beautiful she was, but also with how comfortable their relationship was. He had never been entirely comfortable when they were together. It always felt like he was coming up short of her expectations, and their break up had been epic, but they had managed to rescue a solid friendship out of the wreck of their romance, and he didn't even resent her for how she had treated him, not when he knew he was far from blameless, and knowing all the crap she had gone through too.

It was while he was thinking about these things and turning a corner in the hallway, perhaps not as carefully as he should have, that he felt himself walk into something. He saw nothing, but heard a small, feminine voice say, "Damnit."

He glanced down and found himself looking at an absolutely tiny girl, literally about half his height. She was obviously Asian, though Finn couldn't tell at sight exactly what country her ancestry came from (nor even have been able to tell them apart if someone listed them, in all honesty), with long dark hair pulled into two pigtails and glasses that seemed to magnify her eyes to massive proportions. She was sprawled on the floor, books surrounding her. He quickly crouched down and collected up the books.

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going…"

"Don't sweat it. It's like the fourth time it's happened today." The petite girl got to her feet and smiled broadly at him as he handed her books back. "And you're the first one to stop and apologise, so it's actually an improvement."

Finn couldn't help but grin back, her smile was infectious. "Are you new here? I know you're short, but I feel like I would remember seeing you around."

He could have kicked himself for the short joke, which was kind of insensitive, but thankfully she laughed brightly, a musical sound. One that Finn found he liked.

"No, I'm new. Just transferred here. And I think boys in Ohio are like a foot taller on average than the ones in Washington."

"D.C.?"

"No, state. That's where I've come from. Seattle."

"Oh, cool." Without really thinking about it they began walking together down the hall. "Are you a freshman?"

She giggled again. "Nope, junior."

"Wow!" Finn really had never seen anyone so tiny, and the fact that she was his age? He held his hand out to her. "I'm Finn Hudson, a fellow junior."

She took his hand and shook it firmly. "Sunshine Corazon."

"Pleasure to meet you." For some reason, Finn just couldn't wipe the smile off his face.

"So, I'm guessing you're kind of a jock." Sunshine's tone was neutral, neither admiring nor dismissive, and Finn glanced at his letterman jacket before answering.

"Kind of. I don't really like the description, though. I'm into more than just sports."

Sunshine raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Girls as well?"

That startled a laugh out of Finn, and he blushed a little. "Well, I am a guy. A few members of the football team are in the glee club, though. So are a couple of the cheerleaders. It's a kind of diverse group."

"Glee club? Like, show choir?"

"Yeah, it's really fun. Mr. Schuster's great, even if he's a little obsessed with Journey. You should come, maybe have a go. It's a really good place to let go of stuff."

Sunshine considered Finn. He was just about the tallest guy she'd ever spoken to, and she had actually known in advance that it was the quarterback who had walked into her. Not only had he then not ignored her, he'd also never mentioned the fact once, or tried to impress her. She made up her mind.

"I will come to glee club, Finn, but only…" She trailed off, leaving Finn hanging for a minute. She grinned wickedly and gave him her condition.

"Only if you sing something."

Finn was shocked. This girl was seriously… interesting. He blinked, wondering where that thought had come from. Thinking hard, he considered the challenge. He had nothing prepared, but he had an idea for something he and some of the guys could throw together quickly.

"You're on. And will we get to here you sing?"

Sunshine turned into her classroom, but gave him another of those wicked little grins over her shoulder.

"That'll all depend on you, Finn Hudson. You'd better bring you're A-game."

And with that she was gone. Finn stared after her for a moment, then smiled and hurried off in search of Puck and Artie.

* * *

Artie was easy to find, but he didn't see Puck until later on near the locker room. He was laughing and joking around with a guy Finn didn't recognise.

"Hey, Puck, got a second?"

"Sure, dude. By the way, this is Sam. He's new to the team."

Finn shook the guy's hand, looking at him properly. He was a little shorter than puck, but just as built. He had floppy blond hair hanging down into his eyes, and a wide mouth with slightly weird, big lips. Finn mentally shrugged, he was friends with stranger-looking people.

"Hey, Sam, nice to meet you. I'm Finn."

"You too man. So, besides football, what do you guys get up to?"

"Dude, for your own safety, do not ask that question," Puck advised as he swung his bag onto his shoulder. Finn, though, was wondering if Sam was another potential recruit.

"Come on, Puck, don't be such a downer. Remember what Mr. Schue said about recruiting more people?"

Sam looked between one and the other, his eyes nervous. "What, do you two do, like, ballet or something?"

Puck snorted. "Worse."

Finn chuckled. "Not ballet. We're both in the glee club. We have a lot of fun, but we do take some crap from the rest of the team for it. Except Mike Chang, he's in the club as well."

"Well, what does glee club do?" Sam sounded genuinely interested.

"They walk around getting slushies thrown in their faces," Puck was quick to answer. Finn frowned at him.

"Puck, you've been given a slushy facial a grand total of one time. See, that's the thing, Sam. Glee kind of has everyone in it. That's part of why we take so much heat. Not because we're singing and dancing, but because we're actually friends with people the rest of the school considers losers."

Sam shrugged. "It doesn't sound so bad. I do enjoy singing, and I'm okay with my guitar, too."

"That's good Sam, but… make sure you hear what Puck's saying, too. It can be kinda hard sometimes. Being in glee club kind of bombs your popularity, and even being on the football team can't save you sometimes."

Sam made to leave for his next class. "Thanks for being honest about it, anyway. Is it on tonight?"

Puck nodded. "Choir room, 3.30. You should try talking to some other people, get the full picture. Come on, Finn, you wanted a word?"

Sam left, and Finn turned to his best friend. "I need to sing something in glee this afternoon, short notice. I need some help…"

* * *

Quinn had had a pretty quiet weekend. She spent a few hours with Mercedes on Saturday, since thanks to Tina and Mike becoming so close the black girl wasn't getting much in the way of girl time. Sure she hung out with Kurt a lot, and that was great, but it wasn't quite the same. And so the two girls worked on their homework, ate Mercedes' mom's awesome brownies, and laughed at the little things. It was a release that both of them seriously needed.

On Sunday Quinn went to church with her mom, for the first time in a long time. She knew her mom was pleased: she hadn't given Quinn any grief at all about her not going since moving back in, but Quinn knew it had preyed on her mom's mind. Now, though, she was ready to be honest with herself and try to rediscover the faith she had been brought up with. More than that, it gave her someone she could talk to about the problems with Rachel. She wasn't quite sure if she was praying, meditating or what, as she sat through the sermon, tuning out the pastor's voice, and at the end she didn't have any definite answers, but she did feel more peaceful about the whole thing.

Sunday afternoon she spent quietly with her mom, and they enjoyed a long Skype conversation with Frannie, Quinn's older sister, who lived all the way over in Boston. They chatted about life for a while, before Quinn left to finish up the end of her homework while her mother and sister gossiped about soap operas Quinn didn't follow.

Walking through the hallways on Monday morning, Quinn tried to ignore Dave Karofsky as she passed him, but he caught sight of her as she strode towards home room.

"Hay, Fabray."

Quinn stopped but didn't turn round. She took a deep breath, knowing she wouldn't like what the big guy had to say. "What do you want, Karofsky?"

"I hear how you've joined the carpet eaters. Damn shame, especially with you being so easy."

Now she did turn. She smiled at him sweetly with no humour in her eyes. "Karofsky, even if I were still into boys, and even if I were as easy as you imply, you would still be the last thing on the planet I would look at. In fact, I'd look for life on other planets before considering you."

"So, you are a dyke, then?" Quinn couldn't tell if he was holding in his temper at what she had just said, or if he just hadn't understood it.

"Yes, I'm a lesbian. Now fuck off and get back to your own miserable life."

Karofsky snarled, the anger returning to his face, and though Quinn didn't flinch she felt the first stirrings of fear inside her.

"You're an unnatural freak, Fabray, and if I had my way I'd see you kicked out of town. But anyway, here's a little warning for you and your faggot friends."

He stepped forward abruptly, and Quinn, retreating quickly, found herself backed up into the lockers against the wall.

"Hummel is gonna pay for making me looks stupid, Fab_gay_. And so is that little bitch who's been hanging around. No-one slushies me. Let them know that, Quinn. Tell them to watch their backs."

His hand crunched into the locker beside her head, causing her to flinch away from the violent sound, and then he was gone, striding down the corridor without a backwards glance.

Quinn stood for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. She prided herself on fearing _no-one_, she always had. Sure, things frightened her, had done in the past, particularly people, and especially her parents, finding out about her pregnancy, but at school she was fearless. Last year that had meant she was feared, and this year it meant she rose above it. Just now, though, she actually was afraid of Karofsky. Not because he was mean, mean she could deal with, but the look in his eyes was almost demented. She just could not guess what he was thinking, what he was capable of, and was actually afraid he might hurt her or her friends. She definitely needed to take his advice, and warn Kurt and Rachel about him.

As though the thought had summoned them to the spot, she saw the two walking towards her, chatting animatedly together. She grimaced when she noticed a couple of new bruises on Rachel's arms when her sleeve rode up slightly, as well as what seemed to be a slight limp, but knew that she still couldn't talk about that. She fell into step with them, smiling a greeting at her two newest friends.

"Hey guys, having a good day?"

"No slushies so far." Kurt shrugged while Rachel hid a giggle behind her books, still carried in that defensive pose in front of her chest, like body armour. "That makes it a good day in my book."

"Look, guys, I just had a run in with Karofsky?"

"Oh my God! Quinn, are you okay?" Rachel actually stopped walking, and laid a hand on Quinn's arm as though to ascertain that she was in one piece. Quinn smiled fondly, thinking how screwed up it was that Rachel was so concerned for her, when she felt so much concern for Rachel and couldn't show it. She couldn't resist laying her own hand on top of Rachel's small one, feeling it fit perfectly against her palm.

"I'm fine, he didn't lay a finger on me, but guys, he told me to warn you to watch your backs."

Kurt looked worried. "I always watch my back for that Neanderthal, but Rachel…"

Rachel took her hand back and crossed it over her books again, looking down at her feet. Quinn immediately missed the contact. "I guess I shouldn't have made him slushy himself."

"Don't second guess yourself, Rach." Quinn put her arm around the smaller girl's shoulders, indulging in a half hug and seeing Kurt do the same on the other side. "What you did last week was amazing, I've never seen anyone stand up to a bully like Karofsky like that before. It was totally the right thing to do. It's just…"

"Karofsky's a maniac, Rach," Kurt continued when Quinn faltered. His voice was bitter, but he was looking at the small girl with concern. "He's an animal, and he's out of control. That boy seriously scares me."

"Me too," Quinn agreed, hoping that Rachel would understand how big a statement that was coming from her. Kurt too, in fact: he always tried to play down how bad he got it from Karofsky, and admitting to being scared of him was more than he had ever admitted to before.

"I get it, guys. I could see on Friday how serious he was. And I know what it looks like when someone is ready to hurt me." Quinn and Kurt exchanged a frightened glance at the casual comment. It had to be a slip, she probably didn't even realise she'd said it. "I'll be careful, I promise. I see him coming, I hide. Cross my heart, hope to die."

"Okay." Kurt didn't sound totally convinced, but felt he had to let it go. "We have Calculus now, so we'll see you at glee?"

"Absolutely. Have a fun lesson." She gave them a big smile, marred only slightly but the bruising, and walked away towards her own class.

"My heart breaks a little every time I see her hurt." Quinn's voice was so low that even Kurt, standing right next to her, almost didn't hear. "It's… it's the way she acts like it doesn't matter, like she doesn't matter. She matters, Kurt, doesn't she?"

Her voice had risen at the end, and Kurt could see she was on the verge of tears. He pulled the blonde into his arms. He had held her quite often in numbers for glee: they were similar heights and often ended up paired together, but since Quinn had come out a week ago, Kurt had found he genuinely liked the ex-cheerleader. And right now, he shared her pain.

"Shh, shh," he soothed, patting her back as he held her. "Of course she matters. I'm beginning to wonder if she doesn't matter more than the rest of us."

Quinn sniffed and muttered something under her breath that Kurt didn't catch, but could hazard a guess at. He put his hands on her shoulders and held her at arms' length, staring deep into her hazel eyes.

"Quinn, you're doing the right thing."

"I don't know what you mean." She tried to look away, but Kurt moved his head into her line of vision, forcing her to look into his eyes.

"I know you like her, and as more than just a friend. And I know you're trying your hardest to ignore that right now, because what she really needs _is _a friend. It's the right thing to do, and I know it sucks, but I want you to know how proud I am of you for being so selfless."

Quinn nodded, unsure how to take the heartfelt compliment. Without another word, the two walked to their shared calculus class.

* * *

Rachel was just about to head for lunch when a familiar, ham-sized fist slammed into the locker about six inches from her face. She leapt backwards, but Karofsky followed, storming right back up to her, deliberately getting right in her personal space. Around them the hallway was empty; it seemed that everyone was already in the cafeteria.

"So you think it's funny to slushy me, bitch?"

Rachel kept backing away, but did look him in the eyes as she answered. "Well, that seems to be the opinion held by all the most popular people in the school."

His foot lashed out, tripping her as she retreated, and as she stumbled to her feet he pinned her up against the lockers, an arm on either side of her face barring her escape.

"Oh, so you think you're smart, huh, bitch? You think you're better than me?" One hand shot to her face and grabbed hold of her chin, holding her head in place. "No-one humiliates me, you little slut, and I think it's high time I teach you a lesson. I don't usually hit girls, but hey, you hardly count, freak."

Rachel stopped struggling and just stood, staring into his eyes. Her expression stopped being frightened, and became blank instead. She just looked at him, waiting for the blow she was sure was coming. Karofsky drew his arm back… and went flying.

Rachel snapped out of the defensive, emotionless trance she had been in, as she saw Noah Puckerman step forward from where he had thrown Karofsky into the lockers opposite her. Dave struggled to his feet.

"What the hell, Puck?"

"Shut the fuck up, Karofsky! There is a line, man, and you just crossed it so far you don't get to come back. You can bet that coach is hearing about this, and Figgins too."

Karofsky sneered. "I knew it. All that singing and dancing they've got you doing in that stupid club has made you a pussy, Puckerman!"

Puck pulled back a fist, and Karofsky flinched away. No-one, not even a borderline psycho like Karofsky, wanted to go one-on-one with Puck. Even Finn had only done it while insensible with rage. Puck lowered his arm, breathing heavily, but very aware of the small girl standing nearby and watching everything.

"No, Karofsky, 'cos a pussy is someone who pounds on the easy targets, making lame excuses for themselves. A pussy is someone who can't feel good about themselves unless they're making someone else feel bad. Now get out of here, pussy, and I hope you'll be expelled _real_ soon."

Karofsky stalked away, impotent rage present in every stride. Puck let out a deep breath and turned to Rachel. "You okay?"

Rachel nodded, her breath still coming a little quickly. "Thank you. I'm pretty sure that would have hurt a lot if it had landed."

Puck looked at her for a moment, and realised something. A lot of people thought he wasn't intelligent, but while he might not be smart in the conventional sense, he was perceptive. That answer was telling: it showed experience.

"Really? And you'd know all about being punched in the face?"

Rachel blushed and looked away, cursing herself. Puck walked over and placed one large hand on her shoulder.

"Look, I'm not going to go on about it. I'm not good with the feelings stuff. But just know, I'll rip whoever this asshole is to shreds if you ask me to. Beating on a girl is just not right."

Rachel gave a small smile. "Thanks, Noah. I'll bear that in mind."

Puck sighed. "Come on, walk with me to lunch. At least that way you won't get in even more trouble on the way."

Rachel looked at him curiously. He had always sort of scared her before, even though she'd seen a softer side of him when he was dealing with Quinn, and when he dated Mercedes briefly. She knew he was a very moral person, given that he went by his own specific set of morals. She felt compelled to ask him, though.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

Puck blinked and stopped walking. "That wasn't actually me being nice, Berry. That was me being me, stompin' what needs stompin'. But I am trying, like with walking with you now. Quinn's got everyone mobilised. The girl's on a freakin' crusade with you."

"So, it's just because Quinn told you to?" Rachel's shoulders slumped slightly.

"Quinn doesn't tell anyone to do anything, Rachel. She's too subtle for that. What Quinn does is point out how we should be thinking and feeling, without once telling us anything outright. She's got some wicked voodoo going on, 'cos it's only since I started hanging with her more that I've given a crap what anyone else feels."

Rachel smiled. "She's a good person, and she's good to other people." She looked at him. "A lot like you, really, even if you do try to hide it."

Puck blushed and continued to walk, changing the subject in an attempt to ease his embarrassment. "Anyway, I've got to stick up for my fellow Jews. You're Jewish, right?"

"I know I look like I am, but I was raised, kind of, generic agnostic. I think I'm Jewish genetically, though."

"So, what, you don't know anything about being a Jew?"

"Not much. Why, you going to teach me, Noah?"

"That's Rabbi Puck to you, short stuff."

* * *

Will was delighted when he walked into the choir room later: two new faces in the crowd, and everyone seemed to be happy. As he might expect by now, Rachel was talking quietly with Quinn, but both girls wore big smiles, and both Puck and Kurt sat nearby, apparently involved in the conversation. Finn was talking to Mercedes and a tiny Asian girl he didn't know, and there was a blond guy laughing with Tina and Mike. For once, it looked like there wasn't too much drama in his little, high-drama bunch.

"Okay, hi everyone, welcome to a new week, and I see we have some new faces. Would anyone like to make some introductions?"

Finn stood and grinned his lopsided, good-natured grin. "Hey guys, this over here is Sam Evans, who's new on the football team, so we'll try and persuade him just how cool glee club is."

Santana let out a loud laugh at that, and there were sniggers from other people to, but Finn just continued. "And over here, we have Sunshine Corazon, who I kind of nearly trampled earlier, but who agreed to come, but only if I sing something. So, if the guys would come up?"

As Puck and Artie stepped up, Artie slinging on the bass that looked like it would topple his chair over and Puck setting a capo on his guitar, Finn settled himself behind the drum kit as he continued.

"I didn't really have anything prepared, though, so I thought I'd be better off just going with one of my favourites. So, hope you enjoy it! You okay to join in, Brad?"

The piano man gave one of his silent, smiling nods and Finn gave one massive drum beat, before Puck came in, playing very simple chords in a syncopated pattern. Still, everyone knew this song. It wasn't just Finn's favourite.

'_I got my first real six-string,_

_Bought it at the five-and-dime,_

_Played it till my fingers bled,_

_Was the summer of '69.'_

Sunshine laughed delightedly along with others as the full band kicked in. Say what you like about Brian Adams, this song _rocked._

'_Me and some guys from school_

_Had a band, and we tried real hard._

_Jimmy quit, Jody got married,_

_Shoulda known, we'd never get far.'_

Finn stood from the drum set while singing, then dropped to his knees next to Artie, holding the mike for both of them when the harmonies kicked in.

_'Oh, when I look back now,_

_That summer seemed to last forever,_

_And if I had the choice,_

_Yeah, I'd always want to be there:_

_Those were the best days of my life.'_

By the second verse everyone was up and singing along to the world's favourite anthem to nostalgia. Quinn listened carefully and could hear Rachel singing along quietly, her beautiful tones melding with everyone else's and building them together. She wondered how she could have missed such an amazing sound before.

_'Ain't no use in complainin'_

_When you got a job to do._

_Spent my evenings down at the drive-in,_

_And that's when I met you:_

_Standin' on your mama's porch_

_You told me that you'd wait forever_

_Oh and when you held my hand_

_I knew that it was now or never:_

_Those were the best days of my life.'_

Will wasn't immune either. This was what glee was supposed to be about. Sure, the song might not be prime show choir material, but all his kids were smiling, were singing and dancing, including the two new ones. If this was some of the effect Sunshine had on Finn she was more than okay in his opinion. His protégé was doing great, but had been a little lacking in direction ever since he and Quinn split up.

_'Man we were killin' time,_

_We were young and restless,_

_We needed to unwind._

_I guess nothin' can last forever,_

_Forever, no!'_

'_And now the times are changin'._

_Look at everything that's come and gone._

_Sometimes when I play that old six-string,_

_Think about you wonder what went wrong,_

_Standin' on your mama's porch,_

_You told me it would last forever._

_Oh and when you held my hand,_

_I knew that it was now or never!_

_Those were the best days of my life.'_

Wild applause filled the room as the song ended, and Finn blushed, but faced Sunshine. "So, did I bring my A-game?"

Sunshine laughed and stood up, placing her hand on Finn's for a brief moment. "Oh, you brought it Finn. I suppose I can return the favour." She had a brief word with Brad, and then stood facing them, less than five feet of diminutive Asian girl, staring back at more than a dozen curious sets of eyes. And then the music began, and Rachel, for one, knew that Finn had, quite literally stumbled on a treasure.

'_We were both young when I first saw you,_

_I close my eyes and the flashback starts,_

_I'm standing there, on a balcony in summer air._

_See the lights, see the party, the ball gowns,_

_See you make your way through the crowd_

_And say hello, little did I know,_

'_That you were Romeo, you were throwing pebbles_

_And my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet!"_

_And I was crying on the staircase,_

_Begging you, please, don't go._

'_And I said,_

_"Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone,_

_I'll be waiting, all that's left to do is run._

_You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess,_

_It's a love story, baby just say yes."'_

Unlike with the last song, the entire group was motionless, stunned by the massive sound coming from the tiny girl. It filled up every inch of the room, not overpowering but certainly overwhelming. There was a lyrical beauty to it, and a quality that the majority of the club had never heard before. Only Quinn and Mr. Schue had heard anything that came close. Will thought that Sunshine's might be even better than Rachel's; Quinn knew that it was incredibly good… but not as good as Rachel's, because nothing ever could be.

'_So I sneak out to the garden to see you,_

_We keep quiet 'cause we're dead if they knew,_

_So close your eyes, escape this town for a little while,_

_'Cause you were Romeo, I was a scarlet letter,_

_And my daddy said "Stay away from Juliet!"_

_But you were everything to me, I was begging you, please, don't go._

'_And I said,_

_Romeo take me somewhere we can be alone,_

_I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run._

_You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess ,_

_It's a love story baby just say yes.'_

Rachel listened carefully to Sunshine's voice, and felt a moment of sudden irrational fear. All the time she was in glee club, even though she was hiding her ability, she knew deep down that she was better than any of the other singers there. It wasn't like she was putting them down about it, it was simply a matter of fact. But this… this, she felt, surpassed her, was far out of her reach, and made her wonder if the dream she didn't believe would come true actually never had a chance anyway.

And then she looked at Quinn, and saw the blonde's hand outstretched towards her, and the knowing smile on her face. She took her hand and felt better. She felt stupid and even ashamed for being jealous, even if only for a moment, and at the same time she relaxed, knowing that if nothing else, Quinn had her side, and would champion her all the way. She had never felt that before, never been so sure of another person, and it made her feel good inside. It certainly made her aware that what she was going through to maintain her friendship was worth it.

Her attention returned to the words of the song as Sunshine neared the end.

'_I got tired of waiting,_

_Wondering if you were ever coming around._

_My faith in you was fading,_

_When I met you on the outskirts of town,_

'_And I said,_

_"Romeo save me, I've been feeling so alone,_

_I keep waiting for you but you never come._

_Is this in my head? I don't know what to think."_

_He knelt to the ground and_

_Pulled out a ring and said,_

'_"Marry me, Juliet, you'll never have to be alone,_

_I love you and that's all I really know,_

_I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress,_

_It's a love story, baby just say yes."'_

Even more applause erupted and Will had to work to maintain order. "Sunshine, that was incredible! I don't know if you want to join us in New Directions, but we'd be honoured to have you." This sparked off another round of cheers, and Sunshine beamed, seeing that this was a place where she would be accepted, or even admired, and that these were people who could very easily become her friends.

"I'd love to join, Mr. Schuster. So, when are Sectionals?"

* * *

**AN:**

Thanks again to Cassicio for her help on the chapter: much appreciated. I own nothing. Well, that's not true, I just don't own Glee.

More on the way soon, just as soon as I decide how this story's going to go...

Tom


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Will was working in his office, trying to think about his actual job instead of glee club, when he heard the fast march of a familiar pair of sneakers approaching. He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the battle he was sure was about to begin, and turned his chair to face the door, just as Sue Sylvester strode through in her usual bright red track suit.

"Sue, this is an… unexpected pleasure. What can I do for you?"

"Oh William, I was just attracted here by the smell of pancakes wafting down the hallway, but I see I was mistaken; it was just the vast quantities of maple syrup on your head confusing me."

Will gave a tight smile and returned to his work. "Nice to see you, Sue."

She walked in further and sat down. "But now I come to think of it I did need to have a little chat with you, buddy. I need your help with something."

"You need my help?" Will laid his pen down on the desk very slowly, and spoke with small gaps between his words: he was waiting for the blow to fall. "What happened to your 'destroy glee club' mantra, Sue?"

She shrugged. "I thought things over, Will, and I've been watching the school since the semester started. I might not like you, your club or anything that you do, but at the moment it seems that they're actually helping the rest of the school, even if they don't realise it." Will's forehead crinkled in confusion.

"What do you mean, Sue?"

The coach took a deep breath and crossed her long, track-suited legs. "Last year, when you wanted me to encourage the Cheerios to join glee club, I told you that it was a bad idea because it upset the school hierarchy. Because it blurs the lines."

"I didn't believe it then, and I don't believe it now."

"Hear me out, William." Sue looked genuinely thoughtful as she paused to think. "I believed what I said then, and I still believe it now. It's the truth… or it would be, if not for the fact that, through a laughable series of coincidences, your club consists of students with so much power in this school, it actually seems to be improving by working round the system."

"You think so?" Despite himself, Will was interested.

"I do. I happened to witness Santana and Brittany putting the fear of God into my Cheerios even more effectively than I did when they found out that they'd been bullying someone. I saw Noah Puckerman, the delinquent's delinquent, stopping Karofsky from beating someone up. Mercedes, Finn, even Tina and Artie are exerting influence they probably don't even realise they have, leading by example. It's impressive, William, and I think it's your teaching that's making the difference."

"It's very good of you to say that, Sue. And I hope you're right about the lessons. But I think you've missed out the most important person in that list. It's all Quinn, Sue. She's the one who shows them how to act. She has impressed me so much this semester. She's so mature, and honest with herself and others, and is really working hard to become friends with someone who really needs it. And, I know it's not the only reason, but I can only guess that some of that is due to the character building you accomplished when she was head Cheerio."

Sue grimaced. "I know that was a compliment, but you've hit the nerve there, Will, and touched on the thing I wanted your help with. I need Quinn back in Cheerios."

Will leaned back in his seat. "I can't… Sue, I can't make Quinn do anything like that, even if I wanted to. Why do you want her back so desperately? Last year she blackmailed you into giving her her position back, and then turned it down anyway."

"I know, and I have never been so proud of a student as I was at that moment. She reminded me of a young Sue Sylvester… except she was doing the right thing, instead of what she might want. And now, I need her. I need her to be the leader she's always been."

"Quite aside from Quinn's feelings about it, Sue, you'll destroy Santana if you do that. She's a difficult girl, but I think she's really responding to the responsibility."

Sue waved off the comment. "I don't want to make Quinn head Cheerio. I don't even necessarily need her to perform. What I need is for her to wear the uniform and to be an example to the younger girls. The Cheerios are always going to have power in this school, but if they use it the right way…"

Will considered. "I'll talk to her, Sue. I'll put it in the best light I can. I can't promise anything, though. She has a lot on her mind right now."

Sue rose to her feet. It looked like the audience was over. "That's all I ask, William. All I ask." She turned to go, but stopped at the door and turned back.

"You know, I am aware that all those incidents I mentioned concerned a single student."

Will straightened. "Oh really?"

"One Rachel Berry. She was the Cheerios' target, and Karofsky's. And I know that she's rarely far from Quinn these days. And I know that girl has some pretty big issues to get through herself." She looked at him for a while, then fixed her normal, 'Sue' expression on her face. "Keep doing what you're doing, William. It seems to be working." And she was gone.

* * *

"Well, it's nice to see Sue behaving so well for a change," Emma noted as she fastidiously wiped a grape. Will grinned at the adorable little quirk, and sipped his coffee. Eating together in Emma's office had become something of a standing arrangement for the two of them, away from the distractions of the staff room.

"I know, but I think Sue's always cared about the students, Emma. She might be trying to achieve different things, and do them in different ways, ways we don't approve of," Emma gave a little noise of ascent, acknowledging the point, "but it's always in the students' interests, not just hers. And she has a point: I can see Quinn doing a lot of good as a kind of councillor for the Cheerios. It could be great for her, for the team, for glee and for the whole school."

Emma nodded, but it was slightly slower than normal, and Will recognised it as her thoughtful, devil's advocate nod. She was about to give an alternative viewpoint, not necessarily one she agreed with or condoned, but one Will needed to consider.

"I just wonder if it's not too much to put on Quinn. I know she's doing wonderful things in the school, and she's a perfect role model for people being honest with themselves, how she came out to her friends and isn't hiding who she is from anyone, but I think more pressure isn't what she needs right now."

"Absolutely." Will nodded decisively. "The last thing I want to do is put more pressure on her, or let anyone, myself included, guilt her into doing this. I think that's why Sue came to me in the first place. She couldn't ask Quinn directly, they have too much history, and anyway, it's not in Sue's nature to use tact with the kids."

Emma smiled brightly at that. "And the winner of the understatement of the year award goes to…"

Will chuckled, sipping his coffee again. "It took a lot for Sue to actually ask me for help, but she knew I'd be able to present the offer in the best possible light, mostly because… well, I hope that, by now, Quinn knows I'm on her side first and foremost."

"That's what it has to be, Will." Emma smiled. "I sometimes think that you see Quinn more as a friend than a student."

Will nodded. "I know, and I know that's not necessarily a good thing. And it's not just Quinn. Most of those guys, we all know each other almost too well. That's why I agreed to let them slushy me last year, and why I told them more than I probably should about my divorce. But they respond to that level of trust, and I wonder if that's part of what gives them the power Sue says they have in the school."

"I don't know, Will, but you could be right." There was silence for a while as they both continued to eat. Will let his eyes strafe around all those fantastic pamphlets that Emma created. 'There's hair everywhere!', 'I've got a thing for my sister', 'My vitamins make me want to kill someone', they were all great, showcasing Emma's wickedly quirky sense of humour. After a while, she cleared her throat.

"Don't be surprised if Quinn turns you and Sue down, Will. She might decide to do the same thing one student at a time, and right now I think her focus is… elsewhere."

* * *

"Hey Mom."

"Quinn! How was school, honey?"

Quinn sat on a stool in the kitchen, watching her mother cooking dinner for them with a smile on her face. She didn't see that much of Judy at the moment, their work and school schedules saw to that, so Quinn made sure to make the most of what time they did have. Now she decided, quite spontaneously, to update her mother on her life.

"Mom, you know that conversation we had over the summer?"

Judy was slicing carrots, but paused and raised an eyebrow at her daughter, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "You know, any other two people saying that, they might need some more clarification than that."

Quinn chuckled. "Well, I can give you more clarification if you like. You remember that part where you asked if there was a specific girl, and I said there wasn't?"

"Aaah. So now, there is a girl."

"No. Well, sort of. But not really."

Judy went back to the carrots. "Oh, so it's complicated. Well, I don't know, I mean I'm no good with complicated, I'm not sure my mind can cope with it…"

"Okay, okay," Quinn laughed. Then she sobered, wondering how to approach this subject, and realising that it was in no way funny.

"So, there's a girl I like. I think I like her a lot." Judy smiled and nodded as she sliced, showing she was listening. "But there's so many problems, I don't know where to start. The first one is, not only do I not know if she likes me too, I don't even know if she likes girls… you know, that way."

"Okay, those are problems, but I'm guessing there's more. Keep going."

Quinn's exhalation was nearly explosive. "She's a girl in glee, but she's always tried to make herself as invisible as possible. At the first practice this year…"

And so she continued, relating the entire story to her mother, who stood listening as she prepared the meal for the two of them. Quinn felt like a massive weight she'd been struggling with had been lifted from her, just from talking about her problems.

"So now we're friends, really good friends, but she still won't talk to me about her home life, or who's hurting her, or why she tried so hard to be unnoticeable. And I can't tell her how I feel, mom, because it's just too much to put on someone who's in so much trouble already. The last thing I want to do is make life any harder for her. What she needs me to be right now is her friend. Not some flirting maniac."

She stopped talking and Judy considered. "What is it about this girl you like, Quinnie?"

Quinn smiled, thinking of her newest and best friend, though she might not say that in front of Santana just yet; she didn't have a death wish.

"Just… everything, mom. I like how she's so quiet, but when she does speak she means every word. I like how she looks up at me through her eyelashes at me, because she's so shy, but is talking to me anyway. I like how beautiful she is, even if she doesn't know it. I admire how strong she obviously is, putting up with so much and staying silent, even if I wish she wouldn't, and didn't have to. And…"

"And?" Judy prompted, very softly. She gazed at her daughter's rapt expression, thinking that she had never seen Quinn look more beautiful, more alive, than at this moment.

"Her voice, mom," Quinn whispered, and there was awe in her voice, something that sounded to Judy almost like reverence, like worship. "Her voice is… extraordinary. It's so beautiful, and so full of everything about her, and I kind of like that I'm the only one she'll sing in front of on her own, but I wish she'd sing in front of everyone, because they'd realise just how good she is." There were tears in Quinn's eyes now, flowing unchecked down her cheeks, and Judy had stopped everything to focus on her daughter, weeping with both joy and sorrow.

"And she dreams of being a star, and she's so convinced it will never happen… but it could. It really, really could, and it will if I have anything to say about it."

After a moment's silence, Judy spoke, very quietly. "You like her, Quinn, I can tell that. You've spoken more in one afternoon about this one girl than you've ever talked about any one thing or person before. So I know, this is really serious for you."

Quinn nodded, attempting to stem the flow of tears. Judy took a deep breath.

"I'm so proud of you for what your doing. For helping this girl in the way you are, and for putting her needs ahead of your own. That's the mark of a true friend, and anything else that might grow from that will be all the stronger for it." Quinn ducked her head, unaccountably embarrassed by the praise.

"And I am horrified by what you're telling me about her life. Quinn, try to find out more, because I can't bear to think of a child suffering anything like that. Quinn, shouldn't you go to the police? Or to Principal Figgins, or at least to Mr. Schuster."

Quinn felt the pit in her stomach reopening yet again. "I know, mom, I do. I want to, I want to make sure she's never hurt again, but if I did that, she'd lose all the trust that she has for me. There's no proof of _anything_ going on, and Rachel's protecting whoever it is. I don't know why. There's _so much_ I don't know, and not knowing is killing me."

Judy strode over and wrapped her arms around her little girl. It was at times like this that she was able to equate the confident, beautiful young woman Quinn had become with the little kid with pigtails and a gap in her teeth, her knees skinned from tripping while playing jump-rope, who she had held in her lap and cuddled until the tears went away.

"You're right, Quinn, I'm sorry. Anything you do to push Rachel will just make everything worse right now. But I'll say again how proud I am of you for this."

They held the embrace for another few moments, before Judy released Quinn and returned to her cooking. Quinn rose to set the table, and Judy thought further.

"Quinn, why don't you see if Rachel would like to come over to dinner one night?"

"Really? That would be great, mom." Quinn's face had lit up at the suggestion, and Judy smiled at the transformation.

"Absolutely. If nothing else, I want to meet this girl. See what I'm letting myself in for."

"Ha ha."

"I'm serious, Quinn. All other issues aside, this is the girl you're interested in, which means I'm interested in her as well. Not the same way, of course, but I want to get to know her. Make sure she won't hurt you."

Quinn smiled softly. "She'd never hurt me, at least deliberately. She's just too great."

Judy smiled, and served up their food.

* * *

Quinn caught sight of Rachel as the brunette was heading to American History for third period. She noticed straight away that the girl had acquired some new injuries over the weekend, most noticeable of which was a large and severely discoloured bruise that spread from her jaw to mar both her cheek and neck, and Quinn felt the now familiar mixture of sympathy, anger and guilt whenever she saw proof of her friend's suffering. Rachel noticed her expression straight away, and her mouth twitched into a smile, though it obviously pained her.

"Hey Quinn, how are you?"

Quinn composed herself to answer. "I'm fine, thanks."

They stood in awkward silence for a few moments, before walking on together. Rachel sighed. "Quinn, you can talk about it. I might not answer your questions, but I'm not going to freak out if you mention the humungous elephant in the room."

"A rampaging elephant might just explain it." The blonde let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. "I wish you'd talk to me about this, or at least talk to someone. We're all really worried about you, you know."

"I know." Rachel's voice was almost inaudible. "Quinn, I don't want you all to think that I'm not grateful for you concern. It's… it's kind of amazing, really. It's a good feeling, knowing that there are actually people who care."

Quinn said nothing, but wrapped her arm around Rachel's shoulders, hugging her lightly as they walked. Rachel smiled and rested her head on Quinn's shoulder. When she spoke again, her voice had a speculative tone. "You know, if you told me a year ago I'd be friends with Quinn Fabray, I'd think you were insane.

"You'd have been insane to be friends with me last year." Quinn's tone was rueful. "I don't know what Brittany and Santana were thinking."

"I would guess they were thinking that their best friend was going through a lot of… shit last year. Sorry, pardon the language."

Quinn giggled, the small, delicate-seeming girl cursing startling her with the humour of the situation. Thinking further, though, she sobered.

"Rachel, Santana and Brittany are very close friends of mine. I love them both, so much, even if Brittany's a little spacey, and Santana can be even bitchier than me. I love them, and I trust… well, I trust Brittany." Rachel gave a little giggle of her own. "But," Quinn continued, "they're not my best friends. Not anymore."

Rachel stopped walking abruptly and stared incredulously at Quinn, who smiled and shrugged helplessly at her.

"Do you think I can talk to them about the ancient origins of modern-day festivals? Or comparative religion, or the ethics of Euthanasia, or the merits of honey over jelly, or my secret addiction when I was younger to 'Sailor Moon' and the occasional relapses I have?"

She took Rachel's hand, realising the importance of the moment. For the first time, since they had first spoken during the clean-up operation in a girls' bathroom, Rachel was beginning to understand that she wasn't just a charity case. That there were real reasons Quinn would want to hang out with her. That she contributed, in her own way, to their relationship.

Quinn shrugged again. "You get me, Rachel, more than anyone else. And that's the thing you look for in your best friend."

Rachel smiled and hugged Quinn tightly. As she pulled away, her grin became slightly evil. "Does this mean I get to call you my BFF?"

Quinn laughed and turned to go, before remembering her original purpose. "Oh, I nearly forgot, my mom wants you to come round for dinner soon. Apparently I've been talking about you a little too much."

Rachel's smile vanished instantly. "I can't, Quinn, I'm sorry. I'm… busy."

The famous eyebrow rose with blinding speed. "You're busy? But I didn't even say what day."

The shorter girl flushed, caught in the lame excuse; she'd always been a terrible liar. "Okay, I'm not busy, but I'm not allowed to be out late in the evenings… or at all, I guess." Quinn frowned, confused, and Rachel sighed. "I can get away with coming home from school late, going to the library or whatever, but I can't push it more than that. Please, tell your mom I'm sorry, but I can't make it work."

"Rachel, this is crazy. You're not allowed out past, what, five?"

Rachel's head dropped. "It's the way things are, Quinn. I'm really sorry. I'll see you at glee."

And she was gone.

* * *

When they saw each other again, later on in glee, it was like nothing had happened earlier. Quinn wasn't quite sure how she felt about that. On the one hand, she was glad that there was no awkwardness or tension between them, because any time there was it preyed on her mind, overshadowing everything else. On the other, it felt like the problem was being ignored, instead of dealt with. It was being shoved under the carpet, and that wasn't going to help in the long run.

Will had found Quinn before the session started, and was able to relay Sue's appeal. Quinn had been considering it ever since, but wanted some further advice. As the rest of the club entered the choir room singly or in small groups, Quinn leaned across to her friend.

"Rach?"

"Yeah?"

"I need some advice. Coach Sylvester wants me back on the Cheerios."

Rachel thought for a moment. "Why does she want you? I mean, you were an amazing cheerleader, but I would have thought coach Sylvester's pride would be bigger than any need if it was only based on talent."

Quinn smiled at the other girl's perception. "Apparently she wants me as a role model for the girls. It can be just an honorary role, I don't even have to perform if I don't want to. She just wants me wearing the uniform, apparently."

This time the brunette thought longer. "You need to weigh up pros and cons, and then chuck them out and do whatever feels right."

Quinn laughed. "Excuse me?" Rachel smiled.

"It's my rule for making decisions. You think hard about all the good things and all the bad things, but you don't count them and weigh them against each other. The important thing is identifying them, thinking about them, because doing that may change how you feel about it. Fifty fairly good reasons shouldn't outweigh one deal breaker. Does that make sense?"

Quinn smiled. "Perfect sense. Do you mind helping me with it, and listening to my lists?"

"Absolutely not."

"Okay. Well, cons first. I'd have to be in contact with Sue quite a lot."

"Oh, and that's a con is it?" Rachel smiled wickedly at her taller friend, who giggled and gave her a tiny, joking slap to the shoulder before continuing.

"Second… I don't really care about cheerleading anymore. It's part of my old life, and it just doesn't seem to matter anymore."

"You surprise me. I thought you loved cheering."

Quinn grimaced. "I loved the buzz that the performing gave me, but I get a better one from being in glee. Everything else, the power and the sense of belonging, it was all for security, and because my father wanted it. I appreciated what it did for me, but I didn't enjoy it."

"Fair enough, although I think you might have discounted that one with the whole 'don't have to perform' bit. More cons?"

Quinn thought. "Well, I guess the biggest one is how much of my free time it will take up. I know I have more than I used to last year, but I enjoy the way I spend it. I love hanging out with people and chatting and laughing, and I never did that last year. Well, we laughed… at everyone who wasn't cool. I don't want to get back to that."

"So, those are your cons. Any pros?"

Quinn shrugged. "Being a senior member of a nationally successful team, in anything, will look good on college applications next year."

"Very true, although Mr. Schue's convinced glee's going to take Nationals in New York, so you may well already have that. Anything else?"

"I guess… I think I could make a difference to the girls, and to the school. If I can do something to spread a culture of tolerance, but no tolerance for bullying and discrimination, I feel like I owe it to people to do it. I was one of those people last year, maybe this would be a way to… make up for it, at least a bit."

Rachel nodded. "Okay, sounds like you've thought carefully. Got any more?" Quinn shook her head. "Then, mind if I add one?" Quinn shook again, curious as to what her friend had thought of.

"It sounds like Coach Sylvester's sincere about this, that she really does want you for all the good reasons she mentioned, but we've all seen her mood changes, her sudden reversals of decision. No one in this school is totally sure what her motives are, or what lengths she'll go to to get them. So, one pro of you possibly taking the job is that she'll essentially have a Cheerio who doesn't care if she's dropped. You could speak out if Sue gets too… out of control."

"Rachel, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that this isn't just a senior cheerleading councillor job, Quinn. If you do it right, it could be a job as Sue Sylvester's conscience." Both girls were silent for a moment as the club chatted around them; Mr. Schue was late, as usual, and the group had settled into its normal, informal pattern of small groups of conversation. Then Rachel spoke again.

"Look, like I said, now we've gone through it all you need to completely forget pros and cons and just make a decision. Sleep on it, work it out tomorrow. I know you'll make the right decision."

Quinn smiled and impulsively grabbed Rachel's hand, squeezing gently to show her appreciation. "How did you get so wise, Rachel Berry?"

Rachel shrugged and smiled. "Wisdom is just intelligence slowed down, Quinn. And I can think really, really, slow."

Quinn laughed brightly, and at that moment Mr. Schue entered the room. "Hey guys, good to see you. Now, it occurred to me over the weekend that we never formally auditioned young Sam over there to join us. Sam, do you want to be part of glee club?"

The blond guy stood, looking shy. "I guess so, Mr. Schue. I really enjoy making music, and I figure the more people in, the easier time we'll have, on and off the stage."

"Nicely put. So, you got something you want to sing for us?"

"I… I hadn't thought about it, but I guess so. Puck, I forgot my guitar, can I borrow yours?"

"Just don't scratch her, blondie."

With a good-natured laugh, Sam walked to the front and swung the guitar over his shoulder. Thinking for a moment, he sounded one note, high and clear, a harmonic rather than a full note. While it was still ringing he started a simple, repeating riff on three chords on lower strings, and began to sing.

'_Hydrofield runs through my neighbourhood,_

_Somehow that always just made me feel good._

_I can put a spare bulb in my hand,_

_And light up my yard._

'_Late at night when the wires in the walls_

_Sing in tune with the din of the falls,_

_I'm conducting it all while I sleep,_

_To light this whole town.'_

His voice was gentle, and might not have had the range of Finn's, let alone Kurt's, but it was wonderfully soothing. And as he sang his fingers continued to dance over the strings of Puck's guitar, falling briefly into a minor key for the chorus.

'If you question what I would do

_To get over and be with you:_

_Lift you up over everything_

_And light up my room,_

_My room.'_

Will smiled while listening to the song. He was fairly sure most of the club had never heard of it; in fact, if they had heard of the band, it was probably only because they'd written the theme song for a popular sitcom. Sam's voice was very good, not better than anyone else's, but certainly possessed a quality that no one else in the group had. He would be a wonderful addition. As he continued into the second verse the running riff ended, replaced by powerful chords with the band behind him joining in.

'_There's a shopping cart in the ravine,_

_Foam on the creek is like pop and ice cream,_

_Field full of tyres that is always on fire_

_To light my way home._

'_There are luxuries we can't afford,_

_But in our house we never get bored,_

'_Cos we can dance to the radio station_

_That plays in our teeth._

'_If you question what I would do_

_To get over and be with you:_

_Lift you up over everything_

_And light up my room,_

_My room.'_

As Sam finished the song, Quinn felt sure he was looking straight at her as he sang. She wondered why before recognising the expression, and cursed under her breath,

Obviously no one had told Sam that she was gay…

* * *

AN

Yo, what up?

Nope, really can't pull it off.

Ok, so thanks again to Cassicio for her beta work, much appreciated as always. I don't own glee, or 'Light Up My Room' by the Barenaked Ladies. Also, I realise I never gave credit last chapter for the songs, so they were 'Summer of '69' by Brian Adams and 'Love Story' by Taylor Swift. You can probably tell, my iPod is full of a weird selection of random stuff.

Thanks to people who reviewed, I do appreciate it. To Diana, who gave me a kind of weirdly specific request, I'm afraid I don't know that song, and it doesn't fit with my plan right now. Sorry to disappoint.

Next chapter, Sam learns an important home truths… and Rachel starts talking!

Tom


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Sam arrived early at McKinley the next morning, eager and determined to start putting his plan into action. Quinn Fabray had caught his eye the moment he had first seen her: he had never seen a more beautiful girl in his life and as he found out more about her, his feelings developed rapidly. Not only was she beautiful, she was also smart, kind, funny and talented artistically. For all their persuasion, it wasn't really Finn and Puck who persuaded him to join glee: their suggestion was cemented by the knowledge that Quinn was a member.

More over, and quite incomprehensibly to Sam, she seemed completely unattached. There seemed to be no boyfriend anywhere, even in another school, or even college or something, which he half expected with such a mature girl. He had asked some of the football team if she was going out with anyone. Most didn't think so, and one had given a weird chuckle and said she didn't have a boyfriend, which didn't seem that funny, but whatever, it was what he wanted to hear. So… she was single. Enter Sam Evans.

Sam's plan was, at the very least, simple and direct, even if it wasn't original. The plan was, wait until he sees Quinn, then ask her out. What could go wrong?

As luck would have it, Quinn was at school fairly early too and Sam saw her from a way down the corridor, standing in front of her locker and arranging her books for the day. He took a deep breath, breathed on his hand and sniffed to ensure that his two teeth cleanings had been affective, ran one hand through his shaggy blond mop to make it look whimsically untidy, squared his shoulders, and stepped towards her.

He then stumbled several paces back due to the hands on each of his shoulders. Looking around wildly he saw Mike Chang and Kurt, apparently directing him somewhere.

"What the hell?"

"You need to come with us," Kurt said levelly. "And you need to come with us now, before you go and talk to Quinn."

Sam bristled at the assumption the two were making. "And just why should I listen to you two?"

Mike and Kurt hadn't stopped marching him away from the object of his affections, and he realised they were headed to the choir room. This time it was Mike who spoke up.

"Oh, it's not just us, man. This is an intervention."

Entering the choir room, Sam saw Tina and Mercedes rise from their seats while Artie wheeled himself forward a little.

"All you guys?"

"Actually, we're speaking on behalf of the whole club… minus Sunshine, who doesn't know, and Rachel, who's too close to Quinn, and Quinn, for obvious reasons," Artie listed, looking straight at him. Sam looked back and saw, for the first time, the steady, unwavering quality of Artie's expression. Looking further over he saw Tina give him a big, friendly smile as she walked over to stand with Mike, and even caught the tiny, almost not-there flash of expression that passed Artie's face as she did so, and which was gone almost before it registered. Finally he saw Mercedes smiling a little nervously at him. The fact that someone else wasn't particularly comfortable right now calmed him, and he sent one of his charming smiles back at her.

"Okay, so a glee intervention about Quinn. Why isn't Sunshine getting all… intervened too?"

"She doesn't need to be," Kurt answered crisply. He was probably the best speaker of the group and they had agreed he could take the lead on this. "I expect Finn will tell her sometime soon, but it won't be such a big deal for her."

"What won't?" Seeing them exchange glances, Sam felt even more annoyed. "Look, can I go? I was just about to talk to someone…"

"Quinn." Kurt nodded. "You were about to ask her out."

Sam's mouth opened wide, which, with a mouth like his, was quite a sight. "How the hell d'you know that?"

Tina shrugged. "You weren't exactly subtle yesterday, Sam," she answered with her soft, gentle voice. "You were staring right at her during that song."

Sam flushed, further annoyed by being caught out like that. "Okay, so I like Quinn. Why shouldn't I ask her out? She's available."

Mike shook his head. "Bad idea, dude."

"Oh, and why's that?" Sam wasn't trying to hide his anger any more. "She seems like a great person, she's gorgeous, she's nice to people, she's smart… why would it be such a bad thing?"

Kurt stepped closer, clearly angered by the fact that he was implying there must be some problem with Quinn, and Sam stepped back from him, having not imagined that the normally cool and collected boy would ever act on his temper.

"There is nothing wrong with Quinn Fabray," he ground out from between his teeth. "She's about the kindest and nicest person I've ever met, and I feel privileged that I can count her as my friend."

"Damn straight," Artie agreed, and the others nodded their heads, making soft, affirmative sounds in their mouths. Sam nearly howled with frustration.

"So why the _fuck_ should I not ask her out?"

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to find Mercedes gazing at him with sympathy. "Sam, we just don't want you to embarrass yourself, and then maybe feel you can't be around her anymore." Now he was totally confused, as was completely obvious from his expression, and Mercedes sighed.

"Look, Sam, Quinn talked to the club at the beginning of the semester. She came out."

"Onto the stage?"

Kurt folded his arms. "Of the closet, genius. Quinn's gay, Sam."

Sam felt like someone had thrown a bucket of water over him. It seemed so weird, and yet… oh God, this explained so much.

"Er… oh shit, she is isn't she?" They all nodded silently, the effects of being in a choir together obvious, as they all did it in unison. "Thanks, you guys. That would have been mortifying."

Tina smiled again, he realised she was a very sweet person, and knew now why Mike always seemed so happy. "If you're going to be part of the team, you need to get used to the team looking out for you, Sam. We just hope you'll still want to be part of it despite Quinn being… unavailable."

Sam looked around, and for some reason his eyes landed on Mercedes once again. He was struck by how she looked pretty much like Quinn's exact opposite, and yet in her own way was just as beautiful. He smiled gently.

"Oh, I think I can find a couple of reasons to stick around."

A few minutes later Tina, Mike, Sam and Mercedes had left the room, talking quietly together, leaving Kurt and Artie. Artie suppressed a sigh, and looked up at Kurt, his usual smile in place.

"I think it would be best if Sam never found out that it was Quinn who asked us to speak to him."

Kurt laughed, doing up his designer bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "I would not want to see Sam's face if he ever found out. Honestly, I have never seen anyone be so obvious, did he really expect Quinn not to realise?"

Artie shrugged. "People do weird things when they like another person, I guess." His tone was abstracted, and almost melancholy, but Kurt hardly noticed. A week ago he had made a trip to Dalton Academy, a nearby private school, whose show choir, the Warblers, would be one of their rivals at the coming sectionals competition. And there he had met a guy named Blaine.

Each lost in their own thoughts, one in the unrestrained admiration of first attraction, the other still trying to get over the girl he was in love with, the two guys made their ways towards homeroom.

* * *

Rachel was limping when she got to school a little while later, and that wasn't the worst of it. An altercation with her 'father' the night before, on the subject of her continued association with her new best friend and her continued attitude problems (for which she read 'standing up for herself'), on top of the main reason for their contempt for her, had led to her being thrown across her bedroom again. This time she had been less fortunate than previously: she had landed hard on her left arm, and thought she had heard something crack. She fervently hoped that it wasn't broken, but the pain was severe enough and to be safe she had done her best with an ancient first aid kit to fashion a sling, if only for the short term. She'd head to the local free clinic after school: they knew her there, and didn't ask questions she wasn't able to answer.

She'd been hoping to avoid Quinn, in a half-hearted way, at least for now. Actually she wanted to see her friend more than anything, because the blonde's presence was so soothing to her and helped her forget, at least for a while, the nasty dead-end her life apparently was. On the other hand, she really didn't want to see that look that was close enough to pity to be objectionable. Quinn didn't pity her, she knew, but the expression of combined sorrow, concern and fear was too much for Rachel to take right now. Unfortunately for her, Quinn was waiting at Rachel's locker, and her expressive hazel eyes widened as she took in her friend's appearance.

"Rach, wha-"

"Not now, Quinn. Please? I don't want to talk about it."

The dismissal struck Quinn with a force that was almost physical. Rachel had completely avoided looking in her eyes, or looking at her at all, simply getting what she needed out of her locker, struggling slightly with her hindered arm, and strode away, apparently determined not to interact in any way. The words had been unusually clipped too, with none of the brunette's normal warmth.

Quinn was left feeling sick with worry, and not a little heartbroken too. Rachel might not have known, might not have had any idea about Quinn's increasingly romantic feelings towards her, let alone reciprocated them in any way, but her ignorance didn't make the rejection hurt any less and the hurt was very real, a visceral thing that took root in her gut and proceeded to worm its way throughout her body. She almost staggered to her first class, which she sat through as though she were in a trance, completely unresponsive to anything said by her teacher or done by her fellow students.

And it didn't get any better as the day progressed. Class followed class, and Quinn sat through all of them in the same daze, drifting from room to room mindlessly, not engaging with the school day going on around her. No one could get a reaction, not Puck, not Santana, not even Brittany, which upset the normally exuberant blonde a great deal. Even Sue Sylvester tried to elicit a response, acting out of some increasingly obvious fondness for her former champion, but a toneless "Sure, Coach," in answer to the most venomous and insensitive put-down she could come up with, which had managed to insult just about every ethnic, religious and cultural group she knew of, unnerved even her.

After not eating her lunch in the cafeteria for five minutes, Quinn made her way to the auditorium, where she sat and looked at the empty stage. The bell rang but she had a free period, so she continued to stare. And to think.

The first thing she thought was how this stage was where she had first fallen for Rachel Berry. Oh, an emotional connection had been growing between them before that day, she had cared about the smaller girl, but it was here, listening to the angelic voice that no one else was allowed to witness, that Quinn had recognised the active liking she was experiencing, which she had never experienced before, but which she knew could so easily develop further into real, terrifying love. This was not a good place to be thinking these things, she knew, but it was the best one available to her, and so, she thought some more.

The second thing she thought was how scared she was of her reaction. It was totally unlike her. Her upbringing might have been far from ideal, but it had instilled a number of things in her, one of which was an unsurpassed sense of poise. She was not someone to let circumstances get the best of her, to be overwhelmed by things outside her control. Certainly, she was _never_ someone to be so obvious about showing her feelings when something hurt her. True she had been trying to be more open about herself this year, but that couldn't account for the complete breakdown she'd undergone that morning. No one and nothing had ever provoked that reaction from her before, and she realised glumly that it was probably far too late to do anything about this: she was already in too deep. This was just another risk she would have to take.

And the final thing, the biggest thing, the thought that raged through her mind as she sat staring at the empty stage, was that this could not continue. It needed to stop. Whatever was happening to Rachel needed to end, and very soon. And so, Quinn Fabray made a decision, one she knew might lose her the best friend she'd ever had, and someone she already felt deeper for than any boy she had been with. She took a deep breath and left the auditorium, not noticing the pair of eyes watching from the balcony seats.

* * *

"Hey Finn, how are you doing?"

Finn turned and smiled at his favourite teacher, hoisting his backpack further on to his shoulder.

"Good thanks, Mr. Schue. Surprisingly good, I guess."

Will smiled back, pleased for the student he identified with so much. "So I hear. Grades improving? I'm looking forward to great things in your next Spanish paper. What's your secret?"

Finn blushed, averting his eyes. He really was a mass of contradictions: at once hugely popular and confident, at the same time painfully self-conscious and shy. He ran his hand through his hair distractedly.

"Well, probably my new study partner, Mr. Schue."

"Oh? Would this be Miss Corazon?" Will couldn't help teasing Finn, and also couldn't help but think that it would be good for Finn to move on. The kid hadn't been on a date since all the drama with Quinn, and he needed a boost in self-confidence.

Finn's face was now bright red, but he smiled anyway. "Yeah, I guess so. She really helps me, the way she explains everything is so much clearer than all the teachers here… er, present company excluded, of course." Will just chuckled.

"Of course. Well, I'll see you later, Finn."

"Sure, Mr. Schue." Finn walked on down the hall, pausing at the corner to tie his shoe laces. He was about to stand up again when he felt something collide with his back and two arms reach round his neck. He smiled as he stood up anyway, hearing the startled squeak from behind him and feeling two legs wrap round his torso.

"I think this whole ambush idea might have backfired on me," Sunshine said from behind his head. Finn grinned and started to walk.

"Oh, was that what this was? I thought you just wanted a ride."

Sunshine adjusted her position till she was more comfortable and Finn tried to ignore the warmth and softness he could feel where her slight weight rested on him. "Sure, that could work. Just, you know, try and avoid ceiling fans."

Finn chuckled. "I'm pretty sure there aren't any in this school, Sunshine, but I take the point. Where are you going?"

The small girl giggled. "You're hopeless, Hudson. We both have a free right now, we were going to work on American History in the library."

"Oh, yeah." Finn brightened and took the next turning towards the library, not caring about the few weird looks he was getting. Somehow, what everyone else thought just didn't matter so much right now.

"Hey, do you know what's happening in glee this week?" Sunshine asked abruptly. Finn nearly shrugged, before remembering that that might just knock the small girl off his back.

"I dunno. Probably trying to find numbers for Sectionals, they're coming up pretty soon."

"Finn, you know that girl in glee who never says anything?"

Finn turned his head, but couldn't see anything except a strand of black hair in his peripheral vision. "Rachel?"

"Is that her name? Why is it she never speaks? And that no one ever talks to her, except Quinn?"

Finn sighed and set Sunshine down at the entrance to the library and holding the door open for her, silently thanking Quinn for the lessons in chivalry she gave him when they were going out, when Sunshine beamed up at him at the gesture.

"Rachel… she was one of the first members of the club last year, before I joined, but she's always made an effort not to be noticed. We only realised at the beginning of the year when we were practicing and it sounded weird, and we eventually figured out it was because she wasn't there. Quinn kind of made it a mission to be her friend, and we all wanted to do the same thing, but we think she's got… you know, personal stuff going on.

"Anyway, Quinn warned us all to take it easy, so at the moment we're being nice and trying to involve her some, but not pressuring her. I know I've seen her talking to Kurt as well as Quinn, though, and I think Puck's getting to know her, too. Just a bit of a sensitive situation, and I'm not really known for my sensitivity, so I'm staying away for now, just till she's more comfortable. You, though," and he looked down at the perpetually cheerful Sunshine, "should totally get to know her: I don't think anyone can resist your happy vibe."

Sunshine blushed and, in a sudden movement, grabbed Finn's hand as they searched for an unoccupied table to work at. Finn gave her a slightly nervous grin and got out his textbook, determined to make his newest friend proud of him.

* * *

Rachel was just about ready to be done with today. She felt horrible. Not only was she hurting physically, but she knew how much she'd hurt Quinn by brushing her off the way she had. Now she wanted nothing more than to finish school, get home while avoiding her parents, and trying to lose herself in a book or something for the rest of this miserable day.

It was a sign of how things had changed, though, that people had noticed. Not just Quinn, either. Kurt had chatted to her for a while, and made a few subtle inquiries into her well-being, that she side-stepped as well as she could. In the cafeteria Puck had asked who he needed to pound on; she had changed the subject as quickly as possible. Tina had asked to study with her during study hall, and had made all sorts of offers for help that Rachel felt hard-pressed to refuse. Most weirdly, Santana of all people had stopped in the hallway, levelled her terrifying gaze at the smaller brunette and inquired as to how she was doing, with Brittany smiling happily from behind her shoulder. When Rachel had assured them that she was fine, the tall blonde girl had swooped in and hugged her so tightly that she thought one of her bruised ribs might crack, but she couldn't bring herself to complain: Brittany's hugs were wonderful, and seemed just for a moment to make everything better.

Still, she was getting tired. Not of the concern and the compassion, those were so gratifying she could hardly believe it. No, she was tired of lying to everyone, of keeping everything secret. She had to remind herself throughout the day why it was she kept this secret to herself. As the final bell sounded, Rachel made her way to her locker, resting her forehead against it for a moment to catch her breath before heading home.

"Berry!"

The whip-crack voice made her turn around so quickly her back slammed against her locker door, but before she could register the pain her eyes widened as she saw who had been calling her.

Sue Sylvester, demonic in her blood-red tracksuit, was striding straight towards her, her cold eyes zeroed in like she had a missile lock. Rachel flattened herself to her locker, knowing that, as a non athlete, the accepted behaviour was to stay out of Sue's face as long as possible. Apparently, that wasn't going to work right now. Without slowing her pace, Sue grabbed a handful of Rachel's jacket and yanked her into a nearby empty classroom, with little more than a squeak in protest.

"Coach, what-"

"Mouth hole shut, ear holes open, Jewberry. I'm about to drop some knowledge on you." Sues voice was as fast-paced and clipped as ever, but it had lost a great deal of volume, and Rachel wondered if this, still abrasive and unpleasant as it was, could possibly be the 'softer' side of Sue Sylvester.

"You're tight with Quinn, so I know the two of you talked about the offer I made her. Don't speak, just nod if that's correct."

Rachel nodded slightly, irrationally afraid of making too sudden a movement.

"I don't know what advice you gave her, I expect it was the sort of self-empowerment universal love crap that Schuster is always spouting, just as saccharine as the syrup he keeps that ridiculous hair in. Anyway, she came to me today and agreed."

There was silence for a moment, and Rachel realised she was supposed to respond.

"Er… congratulations, coach?"

"I turned her down, at least for now. She's been miserable all day, lost all the attitude and determination she had, what made me want her on the squad. I told her to sort herself out and then come back to me."

Again there was silence, but this time Rachel couldn't respond. Quinn was that broken up? She'd had no idea, having avoided her at all costs all day.

"It doesn't take a genius to tell that whatever's up with her, it has to do with you. So, Berry, fix it. Make it right, cos I need that girl on the squad, but I don't take broken dolls on my team. Make it right because if you don't, so help me, I'll force feed you growth hormone and sell you to the circus as the world's largest midget. Now go."

Rachel moved quicker than she thought she'd ever done before, but the moment she set off down the corridor, she saw Quinn coming towards her. She half turned to leave, but then, thinking what Sue had just said, she turned to meet her friend.

"Hey Quinn. Can we talk?"

* * *

"Can we talk?"

Artie looked up, which was far from unusual. He was the only person around who had to look up to talk to Rachel, for crying out loud, but this time he looked up further than usual, into the friendly, if currently concerned, face of Mike Chang. He suppressed the sigh that threatened to overtake him and smiled brightly.

"Sure Mike, what's up?"

Mike shoved his hands in his pockets, and his eyes flickered to the floor, the picture of the uncomfortable male about to start a conversation he had no wish to have, but needed to have anyway.

"Look… Artie, about Tina, I-"

"Let it go, Mike. It's in the past. I don't blame you, or Tina really. It happens. Let's move on."

"That's the thing though." Mike finally looked into Artie's eyes, and he looked miserable. "I can't move on. I just keep remembering that when we first got together… she was still with you. That's a really crappy thing to have done, especially to a friend."

Artie smiled at the word friend; he was glad Mike thought of him that way, because he thought the same way. "I guess… at the time, it kind of sucked. But, it was mostly my fault. Like Tina said, I hadn't been treating her very well. I like to think I've learned from my mistakes, and next time I'll be a better boyfriend, but I'm not gonna get all bitter about Tina. Just admire her taste in guys."

Mike chuckled, though a faint blush rose in his cheeks. "Dude, I sometimes worry that she only likes me for my abs…"

"Oh come on, Mike. You're like the nicest guy in the school, it's why everyone likes you; it's like the Quinn effect. It's not just that you're," Artie pulled a face, "'hot', or a great dancer, or any of that. Just accept it, and accept that I don't hold a grudge, and move on."

"Okay, Artie. Thanks for the talk." Mike didn't look completely convinced, but he walked away anyway, allowing Artie to release his breath and his face to relax from the forced smile. Everything he'd just said was true, but all that didn't mean he didn't find it difficult to be around the new couple. He still really cared about Tina, even if she had been a bit callous about dumping him, and he really liked Mike, despite the fact that he envied him hugely, as Mike seemed to be the epitome of everything that Artie could never be, no matter how hard he worked.

More even than the fact that Mike had Tina, Mike danced. He danced with such effortless grace, and could match his movements to any music. In his wildest dreams, Artie would see himself moving like that, and would then wake up, and remember that that particular dream really was unattainable. Those were bad days, when his thoughts inevitably strayed to the things he couldn't have, and the thing's he'd never be.

He allowed himself the sigh he'd fought down earlier and rolled to his next class, wondering if he could find something to want that he had the slightest hope of getting.

* * *

Rachel Berry might have suppressed herself at times, but she couldn't alter her nature. She was a dramatic person, had been from the day she was born, and despite the crushing pressure she'd received pretty much all her life to stamp out those tendencies, she was still prone to drama and even melodrama, if only in her thoughts and daydreams. And so, she had imagined having a conversation like this. She'd been imagining it since she was roughly nine, and it had changed with her, as she'd become older… and as the truth had gotten worse. She'd imagined, yes, but she'd never truly believed that she'd actually have this talk, and especially not in the place she'd imagined having it since the beginning of sophomore year.

And yet here she sat, in the choir room, sitting next to Quinn Fabray but not looking at her, because looking at her would make this impossible. She stared at Mr. Schue's white board, and took a deep breath.

"First thing's first, Quinn. I'll explain, but only if you promise not to tell a soul, not even if you think my life's in danger or something, unless I agree. And you need to let me tell you all of it, not run off part way through."

Quinn nodded slowly, before realising Rachel couldn't see her and answering vocally. Anyone else and she'd give a chuckle about the thing about her life being in danger. With Rachel, she wasn't laughing. She had no idea what to believe.

Rachel sighed loudly, and began.

* * *

**AN:**

Ok, I know this took forever. Lots of stuff going on, writer's block, a holiday, a break up with my girlfriend of three years, loads of crap. Sorry for that. Still, one piece of good news: originally THE TALK was going to be part of this chapter. So I wrote, and then realised it was five pages long so it's part of the next chapter which is, consequently, half written. Yay.

As ever I don't own anything, much as I might wish it otherwise, and many thanks to my beta, the wonderful Cassicio. Although, to be honest, I didn't find any corrections in this chapter…

Reviews are appreciated, honestly, and interesting enough ones I might answer, in case that's some sort of incentive.

Thanks!

Tom


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Rachel took a deep, _deep_ breath.

"As you know, I was born coming up to exactly seventeen years ago. My mother was a teenager at the time, a senior at this very high school. This is one of the reasons I didn't want to tell you; she was a teenaged mother who gave up her child for adoption. I know that must hit a little close to home for you."

Quinn gulped. It did indeed. She shook her head, trying to get her mind off Beth, although the picture of the child as she had last seen her, a small, adorable bundle wrapped in Shelby Corcoran's arms, persisted intruding on her imagination. She cleared her throat. "What about your dad?"

"I didn't know for a long time. I did some research into it last year, though. My mom got pregnant in the spring of her junior year, by her boyfriend, a guy called Hiram Berry, which explains my surname. I was never told my mother's name, but I got my dad's. I got in touch with my paternal grandparents, who told me about him. We've emailed a few times. See, while my mom was a junior, my dad was a senior and the summer after graduation, he joined the army. Unfortunately, he was killed in an accident at the training camp. He never knew my mom was pregnant, at least I don't think so. His mom and dad were so upset afterwards that they moved out of state to get away from Lima. They live in Florida now."

Quinn placed her hand on Rachel's, gulping. "Rach, I'm so sorry. That's horrible."

Rachel flashed her a small, sad smile. "Thank you, but we've gone nowhere near horrible yet. Anyway."

"Like I said, my mom gave me up for adoption, and then pretty much disappeared. I guess she finished high school, probably graduated when I was about six or seven months old, but I had been at what amounts to an orphanage for all that time. So, I grew up, here in Lima, in the social childcare system."

She dropped her eyes and took a swig from the water bottle held loosely in one hand. Still, she didn't look at Quinn.

"There are horror stories about places like that. Almost all of them are untrue. Anyway, there are surprisingly few people in this area wanting to adopt, or at least there were then. You'd think a baby girl would be picked up quick, but I was there for six years, experiencing nothing worse than some mild bullying from more disturbed kids and unintentional neglect that's just par for the course when the adults looking after you are just doing a job.

"And then, I was adopted. Pretty suddenly, really. The Grants, a fairly wealthy couple, had everything, except the ability to have a child. So they adopted me, and I felt special. I felt loved. For the first time, I guess, I felt like people cared for _me_, specifically. For a few years I was probably a lot like a normal kid. I had parents who loved me and who cared about me. I went to school, I had a few friends, although none very close. I got singing and dance lessons, which I loved.

"Things began to change when I was twelve. I started puberty, early I guess, and I think I might have been a bit difficult, demanding more and more of my adopted parents' time, and they're busy people. But I also think, once I started to move away from being a 'little girl', they just didn't like me as much. They wanted a child, not a sullen teenager. It seems weird, but they're really obsessed with image, and I started growing away from the image they had of themselves. The final problem was, though, that against all odds my mother got pregnant.

"It was kind of a miracle, considering a load of doctors had told them it would never happen. And suddenly, it was kind of all they cared about. The new child, their own child. And all things considered, I'm not sure I can blame them for that."

Quinn fumed internally, battling against interrupting. Interrupting might mean the end of this precious moment, however painful it was. That didn't make her any less mad right now, though. Rachel might not have been able to, but she could and did blame the Grants for placing the needs of a biological child above those of an adopted one. She might be biased, though, and guiltily found herself hoping that Shelby never had a miraculous child of her own to supplant Beth.

"So, I kind of got less and less attention. They started just… stopping little things. At first it was not turning up to some of my choir recitals, and then dropping them all together. Eventually, they stopped paying for the singing and dance lessons; they told me they were a waste of time, and I should spend my time studying."

Another surge of fury lanced through Quinn. She had heard Rachel sing. She was one of only two people in the school to witness that miraculous sound. She found that she resented these people for not caring about such an amazing thing, and for not nurturing that talent as much as possible.

"Then it got worse. Not major, just… they didn't make me breakfast anymore, or eat it with me; I started to just get myself a bowl of cereal on my way out of the house. They didn't speak to me at other meal times, only to each other. They started… started making nasty comments about my looks. They're both really tall, and so blonde… I think they got annoyed I didn't look more like them, that image thing again.

"During that time, Matty was born, and that really ended any pretence Doug and Charlotte had of pretending with me. By now, I'm more like a lodger they can't get rid of than a daughter. They completely ignore me, except when they're mad because I've done something to hurt their image."

She was silent for a while, and finally Quinn felt she had to ask the question, no matter how much she didn't want to.

"Rachel… the injuries? The limp, that sling, all the bruises… is that your mom and dad?"

Now Rachel looked down, and Quinn was horrified to see that the other girl actually looked ashamed.

"My dad… I mean Doug, mostly." Her voice was deep in her throat, as if she was having trouble getting the words out, and they were too quiet and broken. "That really only started over the summer, though. I made something that might be considered an error of judgement."

Quinn frowned. "What do you mean?"

The tiny girl let out a very deep breath in a rush. "I thought I'd shock them into paying some attention to me. I told them I was gay. That didn't go down well."

Quinn was silent, trying hard not to make a knee-jerk reaction to the revelation. She wanted to know if that was true, wanted desperately to know if her slim, almost non-existent hope might grow a little, but suppressed it. This wasn't the time.

"I guess my question is, why do you put up with it? You know that a single complaint to child services and you'd be out of there. Especially since you probably have loads of medical evidence. Do you not want to go back into care?"

Rachel took another gulp of her water, and now actually met Quinn's eyes. "I was worried about that at first, I really didn't want to go back, but it wouldn't be as bad as where I am now, and I'm so much closer to being adult now, I'm sure that would make a difference."

"So what is it?" Quinn frowned, unable to see the angle Rachel was coming from. "Is it shame, or something?"

"No. It's Matty." Rachel smiled at the other girl, and Quinn was amazed to see real affection in the brunette's eyes.

"You don't… I don't know, resent him? I'm guessing they treat him really well."

Rachel nodded. "They do, they really love him. And so do I. I know him being born wasn't exactly great for me, but he's the best kid in the world. He's my biggest fan, and the most important person in the world to me. And frankly, I don't trust Doug and Charlotte, but they're good to him, and what he's got now is so much better than going into the care system. If I were to complain, that's exactly what would happen to him. No authorities would leave a little boy with parents known to be abusive, just because they haven't abused him, so he'd go into some home, or into a strange foster family or something. They know I don't want that for him."

Quinn was shocked. She had heard stories of selfless people before, of course, had even witnessed it to a degree here and there, but never had she met someone willing to put their own livelihood, their own safety even, in jeopardy for an extended period, purely for the sake of someone else. Rachel Berry really was a remarkable human being.

"Quinn?"

"Yes, Rachel?"

"You… you don't mind, do you?"

Quinn frowned. "Mind what?"

Rachel swallowed. "That I'm gay. It doesn't make anything weird between us, right? I mean if it does I totally understand, but-"

"Absolutely not, Rachel. I'd be kind of hypocritical if I did, wouldn't I? What's that saying about glass houses?"

Rachel now looked even more shocked than Quinn had a moment before. "You… you're a lesbian too?"

Quinn faltered. She'd always acted under the impression that Rachel knew, and was comfortable with her sexuality. Now she realised what she'd missed. Rachel had been absent the day she'd come out. Not only that, but it was kind of before she'd begun her campaign to befriend Rachel Berry, and of all the things to talk to the other girl about at first, this hadn't seemed like the biggest deal. After that… she guessed she forgot that Rachel didn't know.

"I… I thought I told you, the first time we went to Lima Bean?"

Rachel looked confused for a moment, as though searching back through her memory. Then she looked up, almost horrified. "Oh my God, you did! It was just, it was the first time we talked, and it was kind of overwhelming… and I think you mentioned it as part of a kind of list and I didn't really take it in… wow, I'm sorry, Quinn."

Quinn laughed. Actually laughed, which she hadn't thought she'd be able to do for a long time after hearing Rachel's story. "Don't apologise! Just a misunderstanding! But anyway, in answer to your question I really don't have a problem with you being gay."

She tried to put no inflection on that at all, no subtle emphasis to clue Rachel in to her interest, since she didn't want to take advantage of the vulnerability of the moment. It was difficult, though, as she was happier than she thought she had been in a very long time, and Rachel seemed to pick up something.

"Is it… is it going to be weird? Now that both of us know we're both gay? And kind of friends too?"

"Best friends," Quinn amended firmly, and took Rachel's hand. "And I don't see why it has to be. Neither of us wants it to be weird, so we won't make it weird." Rachel looked dubious, and Quinn couldn't resist it. "Look, Rach, I won't deny that I'm… really attracted to you, and that I have definite feelings, but I don't mind not acting on them if that's not the right thing to do. Just because we are both friends and both lesbians does not mean that something has to happen, and probably even if it does it really shouldn't happen right now. It's all too much, we might find it hard to deal."

She leaned in, amazed at her own daring, and placed a single, feather-light kiss on Rachel's cheek, relishing in the texture of the smooth skin of her friend, while unbeknownst to her Rachel fought to capture in her mind the sensation of those soft lips touching her.

"Right now," Quinn continued, as if nothing had happened in that last, amazing moment, "we have other things to worry about. Like, what are we going to do about you?"

Rachel stiffened. "Nothing. I'm not telling anyone else, I'm not complaining. Everything needs to stay just like it is. I… I need to make sure Matty's okay. He deserves at least that from his big sister."

Quinn stood and pulled Rachel up into a hug. She tried to ignore the thrumming in her body, and spoke calmly over the other girl's shoulder.

"You, Rachel Berry are a remarkable person. Probably the best I've ever met. I'm not going to tell anyone… yet. I'll keep this secret for now. But, don't think I'm not going to work on a way out of this. There must be a way to keep you safe, and your brother safe too, and I'm not going to stop until I work it out." She stepped away, placing her hands on Rachel's shoulders and making sure she maintained eye contact, while trying not to get lost in those deep brown pools.

"I'm putting you first, Rachel, got me? You're the priority, and you are going to get away from them and live your life properly. I promise."

* * *

"Do you want some wine, Emma? I opened a bottle to drink with this." Will stood at his stove, stirring patiently at the sauce that was heating gently, listening happily to Emma bustling around, setting his table in the next room. At times like this he felt that everything was right in the world, and he could, if only for a moment, forget about glee club. He loved it, of course, loved the kids and the music and the amazing camaraderie that existed, most of the time, between the members, but it was nice to have time away from it too, especially as the problems, when there were problems, mounted up like an avalanche. So the chance to enjoy some time with his _girlfriend_ – he savoured the word – was all the more precious.

"I'll wait and have some with the meal, Will. I need to drive home later."

Will smiled. He had known what the answer would be, but needed to ask anyway. He turned the heat off under the saucepan and poured the contents around the sliced leeks and potatoes layered in another dish. It was a secret recipe of his mom's, and he felt the need to impress tonight. Still, with that done, he could relax for a while. He put the finished dish in the oven to bake, then left the kitchen. "You don't mind if I do, do you?"

Emma smiled. "Of course not. It's your home, after all." She tweaked a corner of the napkin she was folding into place, and smiled as she surveyed her work. "Done," she muttered happily, and joined Will in the living room where he held a glass of deep red wine in one hand, sitting comfortably at one end of his settee. Blushing slightly, a sight that Will had always found adorable and now revelled in being allowed to appreciate, she sat next to him, relaxing slightly.

"This is so nice, Will. I can't remember the last time someone cooked for me. Or at least, the last time I let someone cook for me."

Will smiled, determined as ever to stick with her through difficulties over her disorder. "Well, that's progress then, isn't it? I think you're loosening up a little, Em. It's really great to see."

Emma smiled. "I hope so. Now, what shall we talk about?"

"Well, anything you like. I'm determined not to steer the topic onto work, glee or anything related to them, so pick a conversation."

"Well, that's very good of you," Emma teased lightly, resting her head on Will's shoulder, which made him catch his breath slightly. "I choose… I think I choose the upcoming show choir sectionals competition."

Will frowned, though he placed his free hand lightly on her shoulder, holding her to him and feeling warmth spread through his body. "We don't need to talk about that, Em. I know I talk about that stuff too much, and it's got to be annoying to you. Why not something else?"

"Well, because…"

"Because?"

The redhead smiled gently. "Because, I'm interested. The reason you talk so much about them is because you care so much. And the thing is, I care too. I'm not only involved with the club because of you, I'm also involved because I want to be. So come on, there's no huge glee drama at the moment, so sectionals is the next big thing. What do you have?"

"Well, if you're sure…" Will smiled, running a hand through his hair. "I'd like to give some of our newer performers a chance. I mean, Sunshine just has to sing, but maybe a duet with Sam, or Puck, or even Artie."

"Not Finn? I know he's your go-to guy."

Will grimaced. "I know, and that's why I think maybe not him this time. I worry sometimes that I favour Finn just because he reminds me so much of me, and it's not fair on the others. Still, there're three songs, we ought to be able to showcase more than just one or two singers. We have so much talent."

"What about that girl you asked me about… Rachel?" Will walked back into the kitchen and Emma followed, watching him as he went about the final preparations for the meal. Will sighed.

"She's making a lot of progress, but I think she's still very shy. Quinn's doing really well, though, and I think she's becoming friends with a few of the others too, so that's progress."

"But what about singing? I mean, it sounds like she's been in the club longer than almost anyone, isn't she spoiling for a solo?"

"An interesting question." Will turned from the stove and leaned back against the counter, folding his arms as he gazed into the distance, obviously recalling something. "I heard her sing recently. On her own. And, obviously, doing her best, since I think she played herself down for her audition."

"She's good?"

Will sighed. "She's phenomenal. Her voice is so pure, and effortless, it's just beautiful. But, she was really nervous about it, she was only singing for Quinn. I wasn't supposed to hear it, so you have to keep quiet about this."

Emma quirked an eyebrow, "You're telling _me_ about keeping kids' secrets?" Will took the point with a self-deprecating chuckle.

"Sorry, I guess that was a little obvious. But she is so good, she could have blasted us through our competitions last year if she'd been able to. I think it'll be a while before she's ready to go public, though."

"Well, in that case I hope I get to hear her one day. Is the food nearly ready?"

* * *

"Front and centre, ladies. ETA two minutes." Santana's voice rang clearly over the pitch, and the entire squad stopped in the middle of the lap they were running, wherever they were, and sprinted back to the captain and her deputy. Santana allowed herself a moment's basking in the satisfaction of being top of the heap, before making sure everyone was in position for the coach's arrival.

It was mid October now and felt like it, a damp pall seemingly always on the verge of raining on them, and chilly with it. All the girls were secretly looking forward to the time when the coach would finally admit defeat and start having practices indoors. Still, it was a nice evening, the sun visible and pulsing gently under the purple-grey clouds. Santana smiled at Brittany who was looking over the squad with a calculating expression, before turning to see Sue Sylvester marching towards them… followed by Quinn.

Santana blinked.

She thought Quinn might have told her if she was rejoining the Cheerios, but that didn't look like what this was. Quinn's outfit was like a weird cross between Sue's and their own uniform, a short red skirt (though not quite as short as theirs), with a zip-up McKinley hoodie. Plus, it just didn't look like the old Cheerleader Quinn without that high pony, and Quinn's hair was as it usually was these days: loose and straight to her shoulders, with a head band, white today, to keep it out of her face. The Latina girl raised one sculpted eyebrow in query to her friend and received a mirroring gesture from the blonde, a slight smile, like a smirk without the usual malice, playing at the corners of her mouth, as if she were in on a joke about to be played on Sue's hapless playthings.

"Listen up, minions. Most of you know Quinn Fabray, those that don't do now. As of today she is our first… I haven't thought of a name for what she is yet, although I'm playing with a few ideas. Q, what do you think of 'Cheer-Marshal'?" Quinn smiled and shook her head gently. "You're right, that's stupid. Anyway, Q is not here to perform: she is here to advise and listen only. You've got a problem, tell her, because honestly I don't want any of you whining to me any time you get a boo-boo. Understood?"

There were a few shocked nods. Santana was staring hard at Quinn, her gaze only moving when Sue spoke again.

"Good. Santana, I have some people to sue this evening, you can lead training. General fitness, I want laps, suicides, as much physical pain as you can get away with without the Geneva Convention being contravened, got it?"

"Absolutely, coach. This'll be fun."

Santana cracked her knuckles, and the corner of Sue's mouth quirked upwards in the nearest she ever got to a smile.

"Outstanding."

Sue strode away, and Quinn actually saw the sadistic gleam settle in her friend's eyes. "Alright ladies, you heard the coach. Everyone, three laps. Last three back are on laundry duty."

All the girls, minus Santana, Brittany and Quinn, vanished like cartoon characters, tiny clouds of dust hovering where they'd been for a second. Quinn had been preparing herself for this conversation, and was ready for Santana's patented 'gaze of doom' as it was turned on her.

"What the hell, tubbers? You feel the need to outrank me so bad you had the coach create a new position?"

Quinn raised both hands in a gesture of placation. "You're the captain, S, and I don't outrank you. I don't want to at this stage, and honestly, you enjoy this more than I ever did."

Santana unbent slightly, and Brittany took the cue to run her hands up and down the Latina's arms, soothing her further. "Then what's the deal?"

"Coach asked." She shrugged. "You know how pointless it is to try and understand why Sue Sylvester does anything, but she got Mr. Schue on board with it, so I don't think it can be anything that bad. I'm not performing, I'm not a real cheerleader. I'm just someone to give advice, and who the girls can talk to. If I had to guess, Sue's not happy with some of the bullying that's been going on recently."

Santana quirked an eyebrow. "She gives us a list of targets every week, Q. You think she's suddenly gone vigilante?"

"No, but what she approved was always fairly general. She never put a name on the list two weeks' running, and she knew what it meant was a slushy facial. Machine-gun slushy assaults and actual beatings, though? I think that's a bit too hardcore, even for her."

Brittany grunted, a weirdly cute sound as she crossed her arms and pouted. "S and me already stopped that. Once I mentioned the tarantula nest they calmed right down." Quinn shook her head, trying to put what the other blonde just said out of her mind.

"But it hasn't changed the culture that allowed it to happen in the first place, Brit. Look, this is all just guesswork, but I talked it over with Rachel-"

"Obviously…" Santana muttered.

"… and she pointed out that I can use this to keep an eye on Sue, too. Sure she's not actively trying to destroy glee at the moment…" she frowned slightly. "As far as I know, but that doesn't mean she won't change her mind in an instant any time now. What I am is someone not afraid of getting fired from my position on the squad, since it's not a real one anyway. I'm in a position to help everyone here, San. Do you get it?"

"Gundersson! There better be a real good reason you're half a lap behind!" Santana's voice carried clear across the pitch without the use of a bullhorn. She turned back and smirked and Quinn.

"Just so long as I'm still allowed to torture them, I'm cool."

* * *

"Santana, can I have a word?"

Santana knew that voice. The kid even sounded pretty geeky. She turned so that her eyes could confirm the impossibility her ears had reported. No, there was no mistake. "Why are you talking to me, chuffalong?"

Artie shifted nervously, shifting his glasses slightly on his face. "Don't worry, I made sure there's no one around. I'm not suicidal."

A humourless smirk drifted over the girl's face. "Good. I guess it's the upside of being a geek: you learn survival tactics. But I say again, why are you talking to me?"

"Because I really think you need to hear this." Artie was silent for a moment, and Santana realised that, although she'd seen him apprehensive plenty of times, this might be the first time she'd ever seen him actually scared. Having not seen him while he was locked in that porta-potty last year, of course. That had sounded awesome.

Artie took a deep breath. "Earlier on, Brittany asked me out."

Santana froze in the action of sorting out her locker. It was only for an instant, but when she started again her movements were almost imperceptibly slower, just slightly more deliberate. "Do you want a fucking parade?"

Artie flinched, but ploughed on. "I said no." Santana whirled to him disbelieving. This… _this_ had turned down _Brittany_? Artie hurried to elaborate. "She said it was something about getting the full set; apparently I'm the only guy in the senior, junior or sophomore classes she hasn't made out with. I don't think she actually likes me."

"And you said no?" It came out as a growl, forced between gritted teeth as Santana glared at him.

"I may be almost clinically lonely and still pining after my ex, but I have enough self-esteem to want not to be just another notch on Brittany's… I don't know, tassel in her pom-pom?" Santana gave a snort of laughter at that, involuntarily. So the crippled kid was funny. Who knew? "But that wasn't the only reason I turned her down."

"Oh?" The word was a warning, but Artie resolved to plunge ahead anyway. And hoped that when she kicked the crap out of him, she concentrated on those areas that were already paralysed. He took a deep breath.

"Santana, Brittany's obviously in love with you. And you're just as obviously in love with her."

There was silence for a moment.

And another.

"Did you just call me a lesbian, cripple?"

Artie winced at the level of venom suffusing the words, but kept going anyway. "No, I didn't. I don't know how you feel about boys in general, or girls in general. If you're anything like Brittany, who is probably not discriminating enough, you're into everyone to a greater or lesser extent. This isn't about sexuality, Santana, it's about love. You love Brittany, she loves you, and no amount of physical violence perpetrated on my person is gonna change that."

There was a long moment of silence. Santana wasn't looking at him now, and he had no idea what she was thinking. Then,

"Well, it doesn't matter. Neither of us can act on it even if it is true, not in this town."

Artie chose not to mention the fact that that was very close to an admission, and moved on to the next part of the argument. "What, you're worried about being out? Santana, you're an incredibly brave person, you're not afraid of anyone. I've always admired that about you, even if you do terrify me. And one of your best friends is openly gay, and doesn't really suffer for it very much."

"That's Q," she spat, turning a glare on him that couldn't hide the desperation it tried to conceal. "Everyone likes Quinn. She has the super-understanding mom who threw her out and then apologised, and the personality that makes everyone love her. Everyone hates me. And telling my parents?"

"Everyone doesn't hate you. It's true that you've pushed a lot of people away, but I don't believe that a single person actually hates you. And I've met your parents, at glee events and stuff. They're good people, Santana. They're not going to stop loving you."

She slammed her locker door, then turned and crouched down, getting right into his personal space. "Stop assuming you know anything about me, Artie," she snarled. He swallowed, thinking that the use of his real name actually made this about fifteen times as scary. "You know nothing about me-"

"But I do." Artie was shocked at his own daring, interrupting her. "Maybe not well, or even very much at all, but I know that you and Brittany are meant to be together, and however much you hurt me for saying it, you're hurting yourself more, and you're hurting Brittany more, by denying it."

For a while she said nothing, just stared into his eyes, and Artie felt as though his life literally hung in the balance. And then slowly, quietly, she seemed to implode, collapsing in on herself, becoming smaller and smaller. Her legs seemed to give out and she landed on her knees, her arms and face falling in his lap, and as she looked up at him ('wow, that's weird,' he thought) he saw her face contorted with sadness, tears running unchecked down her face.

"But Brit… she wouldn't believe me! I'm so awful to her! I'm always telling her off, or ordering her around, and how can I be in love with her if I'm sleeping with other people? Huh, smart guy?" She dropped her head onto her arms again, and Artie reflected in a tiny, detached part of his brain that he would never in a million years expect to be here, in his wheelchair with Santana Lopez on her knees in front of him and bawling into his lap.

She was still trying to speak, but the rest of her words were lost as they were wailed through sobs, and Artie almost recognised the emotion behind it. It was rage at one's own impotence, unbearable frustration that you couldn't _do_ anything about the crap life's landed you with. Yeah, he knew that one quite well. Gambling once again, he placed one hand on the back of Santana's head, stroking her head very slightly, trying to soothe the tremors of weeping passing through her body.

"You say you tell Brittany off. I've seen you explaining to her why something she's said or done might not have been the right thing, and then kissing her forehead, reassuring her it's okay." Artie was speaking very softly, and looking at nothing at all, a patch of empty air directly in front of him, over the cheerleader's head.

"You say you order her around. I've seen you gently advise her, make suggestions, guiding her through thinking about the consequences, and then letting her make her own decisions. And even being there for her when something doesn't turn out well, even when you advised against it.

"And you say you sleep around, that you're unfaithful to her. I've seen a girl, confused and frightened and under so much pressure, struggling to be what everyone thinks she should be and fighting against herself and her own feelings to do it, and yet unable to stop returning to the one person who's always accepted her, exactly as she is, and who would never think badly of her for acting like she does.

"Santana, you've found your soulmate. You found her at the age of seven. Do you have any idea how lucky you are? Take it from someone who's really hoping he didn't find his and then lose her through his own stupidity. The only person in the way of you being happy is yourself. Talk to your parents. Talk to Quinn. And, if nothing else, talk to Brittany. I said no to her, but other people probably won't, and whatever else, that's going to hurt you if you don't stop it."

He gently lifted the girl's arms and head, and she slowly, shakily stood up. He nodded once to her, and then wheeled himself away without another word.

* * *

**AN**

Hi, people.

As always, thanks to my beta, Cassicio, and thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing (hint hint). Thanks for your patience too: I know I'm hardly a regular updater, but I'm trying my best, so thanks for sticking with me.

As usual I own nothing, although I'll admit to projecting some of my own mood onto Artie at the end there: my bad. Coming soon: Sectionals! I never said how soon, though…

Oh, and while I have some definite ideas about where I want this story to go and how I want it to progress, if anyone feels like making suggestions, I'll at least consider them, and try to give appropriate credit to any I actually use.

Tom


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